


In Finding My Honor

by OnlyMarit



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action, Angst, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Drama, F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff, Plot, Plot Twist, Redeemed Draco Malfoy, Romance, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-26
Packaged: 2019-06-15 00:42:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 48,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15401181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyMarit/pseuds/OnlyMarit
Summary: The retelling of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, but through the eyes of 5th year Gryffindor, Violet Ward. What happens when a young girl, in the midst of trying to find herself and fit in with the Golden Trio, falls for the well known Slytherin Prince, Draco Malfoy?______________________________________"Would I ever do anything to hurt you?" the distinct notes of worry mingled with his words. There was a silence. The answer couldn't seem to leave Violet's throat. "Violet, do you trust me?" said Draco, barely maintaining anything more than a whisper."Yes," she replied plainly, though she wasn't sure if she believed the answer. She suddenly became increasingly aware of his hand on her knee, as his shoulder grew unusually uncomfortable under her head. She swallowed an anxious sigh.





	1. Another Year at Hogwarts

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a retelling of Harry Potter and The Half Blood Prince, but through the eyes of Violet Ward, a student a year younger than Harry Potter. Though, the overall storyline is cohesive with that of J.K. Rowling’s, the plot has variations and certain concepts and scenes are modified to better fit the alternative storyline presented, as well as an additional, unseen ending. This fanfiction takes from both the movies and the books and of course my own imagination (view above). 
> 
> This fanfiction took me about three summers to write, and although I’ve gone back and edited, you may notice the writing in the very first chapters is not the most pristine, but I promise, it does get much better as you continue. 
> 
> (It would be most appreciated if readers looked at the Author’s Notes at the end of the fanfiction after having read the entirety of the work)
> 
> Thank You

Violet Ward sat with a group of friends at the Gryffindor table. She was returning this year for the fifth time to Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry. Voilet was a halfblood who grew up in London, occasionally taking trips to wizarding towns such as Appleby. Her farther, Ralph Ward, was a high ranking official in the Departement of Muggle-Wizard Affaires, which is how he met her muggle mother, Julie Ward. Violet had attended a small muggle private school on the outskirts of London, until, of course, she received her long awaited letter from Hogwarts. Now she spent most of her year in a giant castle in the Scottish countryside; returning to her family during Holidays and once school terms had finished for the summer.

Voilet and the rest of the Hogwarts students had taken their places at the grand tables of the Great Hall earlier that evening. A group of first years stood at the front center of the massive hall. Facing them was Professor McGonagall, her eyes racing down a scroll she held in front of her nose. In her free hand, she held a dusty, old hat: the Sorting Hat. Violet’s eyes followed a newly sorted Ravenclaw as the kid took her seat.

"I bet he's going to be a Slytherin." Her friend, Alyssa Sings, muttered, next to her; pointing with her nose to a tall, sly looking young boy, who approached the little brown stool. A friendly, but misleading, smirk rested casually on his face as McGonagall set the Sorting Hat on his neat black hair.

"Hey, not all Slytherins are bastards." Violet shot back slightly annoyed about the assumptions Alyssa had so carelessly made.

"SLYTHERIN!" The sorting hat called almost immediately and Violet herd a chuckle from Alyssa that seemed to say _'I told you so'_.

Slowly each 11 year old had been sorted into their proper house and when they were all seated, Professor Dumbledore stood up, yet he did not speak, giving the students time to welcome their new classmates. Once the room seemed to quiet down enough the old man cleared his throat. Instantly, every voice fell silent. There was a pause as the old man’s gaze went from face to face, then rested on someone a bit farther down the Gryffindor table than Violet, Harry Potter. Dumbledore’s eyes lingered on The-Boy-Who-Lived for a couple heartbeats before turning his head and speaking.

“Good Evening!” He bellowed warmly, “Welcome to the students joining us this year for the first time, and a great welcome back to all those returning. Before we go any further I would like to remind all students that the forbidden forest is off limits to….” Dumbledore went through his usual speech, welcoming students, reminding everyone of the rules and standards, then proceeding to announce the new teachers of the year. “We are proud to welcome back Horus Slughorn, who will be teaching Potions this year. As for Defense Against the Dark Arts, the teaching of this subject will be taken upon Professor Snape’s responsibility.” There was a soft rumble of whispers growing in the Hall.

“Bloody Hell, Professor Snape?” Ron Weasley, a sixth year and best friend of Harry Potter, gasped to the group of friends at his sides.

Once the news had sunken in, Dumbledore finished his speech and invited the people of the hall to eat. The tables sprung to life with food and the happy chatter of kids as they discussed their summer adventures. However, Violet wasn’t her talkative self this evening, something seemed off about Hogwarts this year. A small cloud of darkness seemed to have drifted over this beloved school. The young witch looked up from her plate. Her eyes were fixed in front of her, but were out of focus. When they finally came to, she found herself staring at a blond haired boy at the Slytherin table. The boy grunted obviously not in the mood to talk to the kid next to him, who seemed to have so much to say. The Slytherin let out a sigh and ran his hand through his hair, before looking up. His eyes met Violet’s and she felt her blood run cold. Immediately, her head shot back down to her plate, but she could still feel his gaze on her. Violet did not dare look back up again until the meal had been eaten and the dessert course severed, and when the young girl did, she was relieved that the boy’s attention was back on his mates at this own table. The boy had been no other than Draco Malfoy.

 

 


	2. Gryffindor Girls

“Only a week in and we already have an essay on the negative effects of an Alihotsy Draught, and a quiz on its preparation!” Emma Elmsworth, one of Violets dorm mates, grunted as she thumped her books on the table where Violet sat, “I swear I’m going to kill Slughorn!”

"That’s nothing,” A voice came from behind them. It was Ginny Weasley emerging from the girl’s dorm and into the Gryffindor common room, “Hermione tells me that the sixth years had to prepare Living Death during their first potion’s class. Can I sit?” the ginger asked pointing towards the chair next to Violet.

“Yeah, sure.” She answered, lifting her bag out of the way so Ginny could take a seat, then took a quill and parchment out and set them on the red and gold Gryffindor table cloth.

“Can someone remind me to tell Alyssa to do something with her toad,” Emma said trying to concentrate on her Potion’s manual, “Damn thing kept me up all night.”

“You heard it too?” Both Ginny and Violet blurted together. All three girls let out a sigh, which was followed by laughter. When they had quieted down, Emma yawned loudly, which caused Ginny to snicker.

“Remember that time last year when you found her toad in your underwear drawer,” Violet giggled, recalling the high-pitched screeches Emma emitted upon finding the slimy creature within her under garments.

“Or the time the thing had climbed into your bed, Emma!” Ginny let out a squeal of laughter.

“Haha...yeah it was hilarious.” Emma said in a sarcastic tone from behind her book. Ginny, then, opened her mouth to tell another embarrassing story, but never had the chance to share it, for Emma shushed her, clearly not enjoying these recollections. “I for one am trying to get all my work done so I can relax during the weekend, and you two are being quite obnoxious, so if you don’t mind…” the girl sneered looking back down at her manual. Violet held her hands up in an innocent position as though she had done nothing and Ginny’s jaw dropped while her hand went to her chest as if to say ‘ _Me?’_ Emma merely rolled her eyes, “Please, it’s hard enough I have all this work to do, I don’t need you lot distracting me.”

“Sorry,” Violet muttered, “We’ll head somewhere else.” The two girls grabbed their bags and books and started towards the exit. However, before they could step through, they were slowed down by a small group of people, who in their turn, were entering through the portrait hole.

“Hey guys.” Ginny said happily as she skipped past.

“Hi Ginny.” The three people answered. Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Violet gave them a friendly smile as she walked past, but none of them seemed to notice her except Hermione who returned the smile, but said nothing. Violet awkwardly exited quickly, leaving the red and gold banners and wallpapers of the Gryffindor common room behind her. It annoyed her how the “Golden Trio” and her weren’t friends. Yes, Violet was a year younger, but so was Ginny! And the two girls had been very close friends since their second year, spending most of their Hogwarts life together. The least the others could do was remember her name or maybe say a ‘hello’ every now and then.

As the two friends walked, she shook away the annoyance. They made their way through the labyrinth of corridors within Hogwarts, towards the main courtyard. It surprised Violet how familiar everything was now. She had distant memories of herself wandering the corridors during her first years, spending great deals of time trying to find a classroom or common room and getting lost. Or the times she’d walk down a hallway and stumble upon another grand window she had never noticed before. She would gently plop her stuff down and stand in front of it gazing at the castle grounds. Everything was so new and unfamiliar back then, but now she knew the majority of the castle like the back of her hand. She has grown up the last five years at Hogwarts and it truly has become one of her homes.

As the pair passed the Great Hall, Ginny let out a gasp of excitement, pointing a finger at a flier that hung near the door.

 

_**Attention:** _

Students, year five and up, holding an average above that of the class are given the opportunity of tutoring those of year three and below. Sessions will begin at the end of fall. Tutors will be assigned one or two students with whom they will meet two to three times a month. Extra credit will be given.

If interested please sign bellow:

 

  * _Hermione Granger_
  * _Hannah Abbott_
  * _Anthony Goldstein_



 

“Violet, you should sign up!” Ginny said, quill already in her hand. Violet gave the witch a look, but Ginny pressed her finger under the words “extra credit”.

“Alright,” Violet sighed, but gave a lighthearted smile, “You have to sign up too, though.”

Once the ginger had written both their names so illegibly that Violet was afraid no professor would know who it was, they continued down the corridor.

______________________ 

“Oh, Miss Ward!” a voice echoed behind them, pulling the young witches out of their conversation. “Miss Ward, there you are,” said a relieved Professor McGonagall as she struggled to catch her breath. “Why aren’t you in class?”

“In class?” Violet asked, confused, as she turned and looked at Ginny who shrugged, “Professor, we have two free periods.”

“I’m afraid not, you have Defense Against the Dark Arts,” the professor said straightening her glasses.

“No…we had Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning,” Violet said as Ginny nodded.

“I don’t mean your fifth year class. Surely I told you that _you_ would additionally be taking sixth year Defense Against the Dark Arts.” She said pulling the sleeve of her dark purple cloak aside in order to see her watch.

“No, you didn’t, Professor,” Violet said quite shocked.

“Oh…well, now you know,” Professor McGonagall replied, looking up from her wrist and peering down at Violet through her tiny, framed glasses, “Well off you go.”

 


	3. Defense Against the Dark Arts With the Ferret

The young witch scurried down the corridor. Violet’s book bag dung into her shoulder and she new it would leave a red mark, but she did not stop to fix it. She frantically turned a corner, catching a quick glimpse of the clock tower from out the window. _A quarter past eleven, I’m not too late,_ she thought.

Sixth year Defense Against the Dark Arts…Violet was still shocked, yet very exited. In fact, if she wasn’t so pressed on time, the girl would had stopped and jumped in glee. At the end of her 4th year, Violet had nervously walked up to McGonagall’s office and used all her Gryffindor courage to ask for an addition D.A.D.A. class the following year. Being quite certain McGonagall would not approve the idea, Violet had written a hopeful letter to Dumbledore a few days later. However, never did she once believe it would happen.

The girl turned another corner and pranced happily down the last stretch of corridor until she was face to face with a large, wooden, classroom door. Suddenly, Violet’s excitement had gone away. She nervously put her hand on the cold doorknob, but did not move any further. _Miss Ward, you’re late. 10 points from Gryffindor._ She could already hear Snape scolding her. Finally, deciding it was no good just standing there, each second slipping away and increasing her tardiness; she pushed open the door.

“Ah Miss Ward.” Professor Snape spoke as the door creaked, his back turned to her, and his eyes never leaving whatever he was jotting on the black board. All the heads in the classroom turned towards her. She scanned the room trying to recognize any of the Gryffindor sixth years. She spotted Parvati sitting with Hermione, who had been the only one not to turn around and was scribbling down notes on her paper, at the front of the room. A couple seats away Violet saw Harry and Ron; they looked at her, then looked down at each other and whispered something she could not make out. Nearest her, by the door, were Neville Longbottom and Dean Thomas. Longbottom gave Violet a confused smile. The witch also recognized a couple Slytherins such as, Pansy Parkinson, Milicent Bulstrode, Vincent Crabbe, and a few others she could not remember the names of.

“Sorry, Professor, for my tardiness,” Violet said, stepping into the room, “I only just found out this-”

“No need...” Professor Snape began, cutting her off, “…for excuses, Miss Ward.” He said lingering at the end of each word and then pausing. “Please, take a seat.” As the man spoke his mouth stayed awfully still, only it’s corners moved and his face showed a blank expression, making it impossible for Violet to determine if he was mad or not. Of course, this being her fifth year at Hogwarts, she had gotten used to Snape’s monotone ways.

Awkwardly, Violet turned and looked around the room, her book bag still painfully hanging at her shoulder. All the seats were occupied, well all except for one…

“Miss Ward,” Professor Snape sighed turning back to the black board, “There is a free seat next to Mr. Malfoy, unless of course, you would rather stand for the duration of class.”

Taking a deep breath Violet heaved her bag higher up her shoulder and walked down the aisle towards the desk Malfoy sat at. When she got there, the blond only spared her a glance before looking back down at his parchment. Letting out a sigh, she sat. Then, the girl reached down and grabbed her writing supplies, and tucked her bag under her seat. Bringing her hand to her red shoulder, Violet rubbed, feeling some relief. She peered around the room not quite sure what they were supposed to do, and being the fifth year in the room, she was too timid to ask anyone.

“We’re supposed to be copying the lesson page 45,” Malfoy sneered, noticing her discomfort and taping his manual with his quill.

“I…er...I didn’t get a manual,” Violet whispered shyly. Malfoy didn’t say anything for a bit and Violet just sat there, fiddling with her quill. Finally, Malfoy let out an annoyed breath and nudged the book with his elbow so that the two of them could read the lesson.

“Thanks,” she muttered under her breath, a little surprised that he had actually shared his book.

“Now,” Snape spoke as he wrote one last word on the board. “You will be working with your neighbors in pairs. You will be handling Woodlen Pixies.” With a flick of his wand, small individual cages in the far corner of the room, which Violet had not noticed before, levitated and were gracefully flown around until each table had one. “The precautions and assignment are on the board.” He said touching it with his wand. The man stared at the class for a couple heartbeats, then turned, while students quietly began reading the instructions at the front of the class.

“Oh and...” Professor Snape added, breaking the silence, “You will be using these same partners for the rest of the term.” He peered around the room then rested his eyes on Harry and Ron, “However, I do recommend that Mr. Potter and Mr. Weasley found different work partners.”

Ron let out a frustrated huff and glanced at Harry. Violet, on the other hand was quite glad. Perhaps one of the boys would volunteer to go with Malfoy. Ron stood up and looked over at Dean. The other boy shrugged and Longbottom gave a small nod, standing up too. Quickly, the two boys had switched seats and now the two groups were busy discussing the woodlen pixie that buzzed around the cage in front of them. Violet’s heart sank, foolish of her to think one of them would ever partner with Malfoy at their own will. Slowly the chatter in the room grew as the groups started casting spells at their pixies and scribbling down notes.

“ _Patrificus Totalus_ ,” Malfoy said and their pixie went immobile, Malfoy then levitated the creature, examining it before writing a note. Woodlen pixies were hyperactive things, with similar characteristics of a bony, underfed (although, the are not), street rat. However, they had bat like wings and a spiky tail. They are commonly known to be found in gardens or on streets. They feed off of smaller creatures and have a tendency to leave around confounding jinxes and hexes. Malfoy raised his wand higher and the pixie let out a frantic screech, squirming around as much as it could, considering Malfoy had put it in full body binding curse.

“Er…Malfoy,” Violet began hesitantly, “We’re supposed to nock it out first.” The Slytherin ignored her and continued casting his curses.

“Malfoy…” She said, glancing back up at the black board to make sure she had read the directions correctly, and sure enough she did. Once again he did not answer her. So, Violet raised her wand and took control of the Pixie, undoing Malfoy’s spells and redoing them in the correct order.

“Hey,” he sneered, peering at the girl through his blond hair that had, throughout the day, fallen into a messy state. “I don’t need a fifth year telling me what to do.”

“We’re supposed to nock the thing out first,” she repeated concentrating on the pixie, “We’re supposed to be working together, as partners.”

“Yeah… I know,” He muttered quietly.

 _____________________

As the days turned into weeks, Violet never had much better luck with Malfoy. Their D.A.D.A. classes pretty much went the same way they did the first time. Except, they seemed to talk less, especially once Violet had gotten used to the class and had received her own manuals. The Slytherin boy ignored her throughout the majority of the class, only talking to her when necessary and usually in a rude tone. Violet had given up trying to be friendly and just went with it. He would walk in and sit at his usual spot at the far right by the window. She would come in and sit down next to him and mutter a hello. He would never answer and only dip his head on the best of days. Then, they would listen to Snape’s lectures and when it was time to work in groups they would avoid each other as much as possible, only talking to discuss answers and techniques. Violet was a little frustrated from time to time, but she wasn’t complaining. I mean, it could be worse.

However, this day when Violet entered the classroom, Malfoy was nowhere in sight. The girl shrugged and walked to her seat. “Hey Hermione,” she muttered full of hope as she passed, the other witch turned at the sound of her name and gave a smile.

“Good morning...Violet,” Hermione said pausing slightly before saying her name. Violet turned away, feeling a bit happier inside and sat down pulling out her books and re-reading her homework answers.

“Hey Violet,” she heard Hermione call back.

“Yes?” Violet asked, turning around.

“I was just wondering how exactly you got into sixth year D.A.D.A.,” Hermione said then added with a smile, “I asked Ginny, but, well she did a very bad job at explaining.”

“Oh, well, I’m quite not so sure myself,” Violet said with a chuckle, “I discussed it with McGonagall last year, and sent a letter to Dumbledore, I didn’t actually think it would work.”

“Hmm, yes, I see.” Hermione said biting her lip, “I might want to talk to them about moving me up in Charms. So...” Hermione said, not exactly sure what to say, “Have you been working on your O.W.Ls yet?”

“...I mean I’ve done some practice sheets, but,” Violet said looking at the classroom clock, _Where is Malfoy?_ “But I haven’t done too much.”

“Yes. Well, I would recommend—” Hermione began but could not finish, for Snape had entered the room. The older girl slid down into her chair and grabbed her quill. The room fell silent and Snape marched down the aisle, his black cloak brushing the floor with each step.

“Upon your books to page 130,” he said without any greeting, “130.”

The noise of books landing on tables and the ruffle of pages sounded around the room as the students flipped through their manuals to the correct page. In the meantime, the Slytherin teacher went from table to table collecting the homework.

“Today, will be a work day in your groups. After reading the text on wizarding duels, page 130, each pair will be working on their offensive spells,” Then his head slowly turned to Violet and the eye contact they had made the girl feel a bit uneasy, “Seeing Mr. Malfoy is absent we’ll be working together.” Violet let out a shaky breath. Working with Snape? On duels? She tapped her feet nervously on the stone floor and turned back to her textbook.

It was at that moment that she heard the familiar noise of the big wooden door swinging open. When she turned around she was relieved to see Malfoy standing in the shadows on the doorway. His chest heaved up and down and a bit of sweat was visible on his forehead. He walked forward slowly, and towards their table. She had never been so happy to see him. Curiously, Violet noticed his right hand was hidden beneath his cloak and out of sight, and even once he sat down he did not remove his hand. The boy made no effort to address the class and apologize for his tardiness.

“What happened to the ferret?” She heard Ron whisper to Dean a few seats away. Professor Snape looked up and eyed “the ferret” but made no comment and looked away without any reaction.

Once the class had read the paragraphs, they all grabbed their wands and cleared the tables. The students partnered up and faced each other, chanting spells and curses.

“How about we go over there,” Violet suggested pointing to an unoccupied area of the class, “There’s...there’s more space.” Malfoy said nothing and followed her, and when they got there they both stood silently for a couple heartbeats before Violet finally drew her wand. Hesitantly, Malfoy removed his hand from beneath his clock and did the same. It was then when Violet noticed the deep pink cut on the back of his hand. The cut started at the knuckle of his index finger and snaked its way down his wrist.

“Malfoy!” she gasped, bringing her hands to her mouth, “Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. I’m fine.” He hissed and raised his wand, ready to start dueling.

“No, I’m serious.” She said, imagining how painful it must be, “You need to go to the infirmary.”

“Ward, I said I’m fine. Leave it?” He repeated.

“Malfoy,” Violet shook her head stepping forward, “It looks bad.”

“Ward, please.” He sneered pulling the sleeve of his cloak farther down his hand to hide the cut, “ _Stupefy_.” It took Violet a second to process the spell he had spoken, giving her barely enough time to cast a shielding charm over herself. And that was the end of their conversation; the two continued the dueling exercise, his cut never to be dealt with again.

When Professor Snape finally released the class, Violet watched as Malfoy stumbled out of the classroom and hurried down the corridor. The girl felt an unsure feeling in her stomach and decided to follow him.

 


	4. Hide and Seek Around Hogwarts

Violet huffed quickly and quietly through the school after Malfoy. She navigated around loose stones, while keeping a safe distance between the two of them. The Slytherin boy led her down one of the large staircases at the center of Hogwarts. Violet held her breath, as she nervously passed a group of young Huffelpuff girls, hoping they would not notice her sneaky behavior. Of course, the students hardly noticed her at all—far too deep in a conversation about some guy—let alone to have any suspicions.

Soon enough Malfoy marched down the stairs into a familiar, indoor clearing on the West side of the castle. Violet peered down at him, from the staircase queue, above. She waited to see Malfoy’s next move before she would do hers. Naturally, she suspected he would turn right and head for the staircase to the Slytherin common room. However, to her dismay, he did not. Instead, Malfoy walked down the opposite corridor; then pushed passed a beautifully crafted and burnished wooden door. _The prefects’ bathroom?_ That’s right, he was a prefect! She had completely forgotten.

This now left her in an unsure situation. Obviously the young girl could not enter, but she could not just stand there either. What would happen if the Slytherin saw her when he came out? Taking a deep breath—partly of annoyance, but also due to the massive weight her bag had on her—Violet walked half way down the hallway, then stopped and released her book bag to the ground. She let herself slide down the stone wall to the cold floor. Pulling her dark, brunet hair out of her face and behind her ears, Violet grabbed a random book and flipped to a random page.

Minutes slipped by one after the other and Violet decided it was absolutely ridiculous to pretend to work when she could actually be getting assignments done. She sped through a Transfigulation essay questions then managed making an outline for a Veritaserum Potion. When Malfoy had finally emerged from the bathroom, Violet was halfway through a Herbology sheet. He had slipped out of the bathroom, down the hall, so quietly that if it were not for her passionate lack of interest in Herbology, she would not have heard him.

It was not until Malfoy had turned the corner that Violet shoved her books, quills, and parchment back into her bag and scurried after him. She picked up the pace when she passed the same corner, just in time to see Malfoy disappear behind another one, he too picking up the pace. It truly was a game of hide and seek. Something caught the young girl’s eyes as well, just before he had turned down the corridor, an object in his left hand had glistened in the light. He had been too far away for her to make it out, but one thing was for sure: he hadn’t had it before he entered the bathroom.

Apparently, when Violet managed to catch up to Malfoy sufficiently, her shaky breathing, or perhaps her heavy, tiered footsteps, had been too loud, and he shot his head around. Without another thought, she leaped behind an empty armor suite. He stood there for several moments scanning the area, but, to her luck, shrugged and sprinted away. Slowly, Violet emerged from her hiding spot, dusting her skirt. Annoyance growing in her; how would she ever catch up now? At that instant, she let out a squeal as a figure leaped out of the armor suite. It was Peeves, and she let out an irritated sigh. He floated past and raised a ghostly eyebrow.

“What is a young Gryffindor, such as yourself, doing, following a—” The poltergeist paused, his lips pulling back into a grin, “ _the_ handsome, Slytherin Prince?” Violet didn’t answer, roughly slinging her book bag over her shoulder again and walking away, not in the mood to continue this conversation with Peeves.

“He’s gone down the right corridor, pass the second floor Charms classroom.” He smirked and Violet looked up giving him a grateful smile, before quickly heading off, “But don’t get too frisky with the boy!” The poltergeist called after her, and disappeared into a solid brick pillar, his chuckles still echoing off the walls.

The Gryffindor started into a trot after Malfoy and did not slow down until his platinum blond head came into view. They passed several empty classrooms, and one History of Magic class that was filled with some very bored looking third years.

She had no idea where Malfoy was going. Every time she thought he would possibly stop, he did not. Violet looked outside as she passed a window; the sun was dipping down the sky from behind massive clouds, barely lighting the late afternoon life. How much longer could she keep this up? She had been chasing him all afternoon; she didn’t even know what part of the castle she was in. _Honestly it would be_ —she did not finish her thought, for before her, down the hall, stood Malfoy. In front of him was a blank castke wall. He stood there for several instance then an old, wooden closet door came into existence. The hinges had rusted and the wood was deteriorating. She held her breath, slowly stepping into the shadows, letting her head poke out to see the boy. The closet was quite small and even Violet, who had always been petite for her age, would have had trouble squeezing inside. Malfoy set his hand on the door handle then stepped back. There was the faint _ding_ of a bell, then fragments of the old wood started to grow up and out, as the door repaired itself. The rusty metal hinges darkened, turning a deep black, and then snaked their way around the planks of wood like vines. Lastly the crooked handle Mafloy had touched now turned into the roaring head of a leopard.

The once decaying closet that had been no taller that Malfoy, himself, was now a majestic door that reached high, curving at the top and almost touching the tall ceiling. She remembered that door, where had she seen it before? It was so familiar.

_Could it be? It could, I mean we are on the seventh floor after all...yes! Yes it is._ She thought with enthusiasm. The Room of Requirement, she remembered it from the D.A. meetings the year before. As she soon suspected, Malfoy pushed it open and slipped out of view. Violet had been following him for the last 2 hours—at least so it seemed— she had to follow him in, it only made sense. Emerging from her hiding spot she hurried towards to door only to be stopped half way. A certain ginger had spotted her and was now waving for her attention.

“Violet!” Ginny called as she ran towards her friend, she was dressed in full quidditch attire and her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, “There you are! Come on, we’re going to be late for quidditch tryouts.”

_Quidditch tryouts!_ Violet had completely forgotten. Ginny grabbed her arm and started dragging her off. “Where have you been?”

“I..uh..” Violet stuttered taking one last look behind her at the majestic door, but it was no longer there, in its place was the empty wall.

“Never mind that,” Ginny said, “Lets just get you ready.”

 

Several minutes later the two girls were down at the quidditch pitch. Violet was dressed in discarded pair of last year’s quidditch jersey and cape, one of the school’s Cleansweep Eleven broomsticks in her hand. She had always wanted to make the team and had been excited for this day all year, yet she seemed a little distant…

A handful of other Gryffindors had joined them down on the field including Ron Weasley, Cormack McLaggen, Katie Bell, and others. The bleachers were not dressed with the colorful drapes of the four houses, but lade bare showing their wooden skeletons. Violet peered at them trying to make out who sat up there. However, the light from the sun was hidden behind dark clouds, making the viewers hard to make out. Yet, one thing was for sure. Harry was nowhere. The students chatted amongst each other as they waited, and finally, after several minutes Harry’s figure was spotted across the field. When he had joined the group Ginny went to his side.

“Ok everyone, quiet please,” he said above the chatter, “I would like—quiet please” he struggle to say, but there was still chatter in the air.

“SHUT IT.” Ginny spoke firmly and everyone went silent. All the eyes went to look at her then turned to Harry. Violet could see Ginny’s cheeks blush.

“Yes, very well,” Harry said, “I would like to apologize for my tardiness. I had to check on something,” He paused momentarily, thinking back to what it was he had been doing, “Today we will be doing some exercises to test your abilities in the air. Now, just because you made the team last year does not guarantee you a spot this year.”

They separated into groups of interest. Violet, Ginny, Katie and few 4th years to the Chaser side, Ron and McLaggen as keepers, then Jimmy Peakes, Ritchie Coote, and some 3rd year she did not know trying for the beater positions. Each person was able to show their skills twice in semi games. Harry watched from his broomstick taking mental notes and giving corrections, occasionally swooping down towards Demelza Robbins, who sat in the bleachers with a note pad, writing down whatever it was Harry would mutter to her. When it was all done, everyone gathered on the grass and Harry spoke again.

“Thank you everyone for coming out today. You all did great,” He said giving them all a smile before continuing, “I will announce the new team in a couple of days. You can go down to the lockers now and get your stuff. Thanks once again.”

“Thank you Harry.” “Bye Harry.” “See’ya mate,” everyone muttered as they headed off the field.

“Oh I hope I made the team,” Ginny whispered with excitement.

“Of course _you_ did!” Violet said giving her a friendly nudge, “You made the team last year, and Harry…well honestly I think he’s practically in love with you.”

“What Harry?” Ginny asked, keeping her voice down and raising her eyebrows, “No he doesn’t—”

“Er… Violet,” Potter called back from where the group had been, cutting Ginny’s sentence short. “Can I speak with you?”

“I’ll catch you later,” Violet said to Ginny then turned and headed towards the team captain, “Uh… yeah what is it?” she asked nervously. She was not used to talking to Harry Potter. Even back when she went to the Dumbledore’s Army meet-ups, they never really spoke. In fact, Ginny was the only reason they were friendly. To be completely honest she was slightly fangirling—but hated herself for it. She never had any respect for the brainless girls who always chased after Harry Potter’s golden shadow.

“I…uh…” He began looking around them to make sure no one was in earshot, “I saw you…following Malfoy.” He said and Violet’s stomach tightened. Neither of them spoke and there was an awkward silence. He had seen her? Was that all he was going to say? Was this his way of telling her to stay away from him? What was the point of telling her? She did not know, “Just, just be careful. Okay?” and with that he was off. Violet stood there a little baffled, then turned and did the same. She had so many questions in her head, but one thing was for sure. She had been so careful when following Malfoy, making sure no one was paying any attention to her, so that only meant one thing. Harry had been sneaking after him too.


	5. More Important Matters

“Patronuses!” Emma repeated, “You learn how to conjure patronuses!” Emma had been a little too enthusiastic and earned many shushes from the near by students in the library.

“Honestly, Emma, it’s not that big of a deal,” Violet said, turning a page of her book.

“You’re right! It isn’t that big of a deal,” Emma gasped, “It’s an even bigger deal!”

“Come one, Emma, patronuses are nothing new,” Ginny said, playing with her quill, not paying any attention to her potions homework, “We learned it last year in our D.A meetings.”

 “If you haven’t forgotten,” Emma said her voice hitching and Violet wasn’t sure if it was out of annoyance or regret, “my father would have murdered me— _murdered me_ —if he ever found out I joined. I couldn’t risk it. And anyways—”

 “I wonder what my patronus would be,” Alyssa piped in, cutting her dorm mate mid sentence.

“Mine’s a horse,” Ginny said proudly, still not paying any attention to her work, her white quill twirling rapidly round her fingertips.

“Mine is a fox,” Emma said, “Well, I mean, I assume it would be. It represents responsibility, agility and intellect. Fits me well, right?” she said raising an eyebrow, waiting for the others to agree, and when no one answered she quickly spoke again, “What’s your patronus, Violet?”

 “A jack rabbit,” she mumbled turning another page of her book. The truth was, she wasn’t actually reading it. Her mind was cloudy and her thoughts were somewhere else. _Malfoy’s cut hand, the sparkling object, the Room of Requirement._ It was too obvious that something was up. ‘ _I…uh…I saw you following Malfoy.’_ Harry was there too, but was it to follow Malfoy, or her? Maybe neither, maybe he had his own agenda. She shifted positions on her chair, but could not seem to get comfortable.

“I’m pretty sure mine would be a white _liger_.” Alyssa said

 “A _tiger_?” Emma asked, taking the quill out of Ginny’s hands, “You’re going to poke your eye out, or worse, mine.”

 “No a L-I-G-E-R.” Alyssa said, sounding out the word slowly, “A white one.”

 “What the hell is a liger?” Ginny said snatching the quill back from Emma.

 _Well it’s obvious Malfoy and Potter aren’t working together, and why would Harry be following me? So he must have been following Mafloy... And what’s Malfoy even playing at?_ Violet hid behind her book, lingering in her thoughts.

 “It’s a cross bread between a tiger and a lion. Very rare. And white ligers are even rarer,” Alyssa said, her eyes becoming round, “They say there are only ten in the world.”

“Honestly, Alyssa, you’re starting to sound like that Lovegood girl,” Emma said rolling her eyes.

 “What’s wrong with Luna?” Ginny barked up angrily, but before Emma could stutter a response, their conversation was interrupted by a very satisfied looking Katie Bell.

“I was instructed to give these to you,” Katie said setting an envelope in front of both Violet and Ginny, “See you two Friday.” She added with a wink then left. Violet looked up from her book and took it in her hand, using the nail of her thumb to tear open the envelope. She took out two pieces of parchment.

 

**_Dear Violet Ward;_ **

**_Congratulations, you have made this year’s Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Throughout this year you will be playing for your house as a chaser. Stop by Professor McGonagall’s office to pick up your tailored uniform. A broom, a broomstick servicing kit, and a basic first aid pouch will also be required from you at all practices and games. On the second piece of parchment you can find the game schedule for this term. Our first practice will be this coming Friday, where you will receive further notice on future quidditch practices. Congratulations once again!_ **

**_Sincerely,_ **

**_Harry Potter, Gryffindor Quidditch Captain_ **

 

“The quidditch team!” Ginny squealed then peered over her shoulder at Violet’s letter, “Yay! You’re chaser too!”

“You know, apparently in China, they do this yearly quidditch interaction with ligers…” Alyssa began, but stopped, sinking back down into her chair as Emma gave her a cold stare.

“Where on earth am I supposed to find a _basic first aid pouch_?” Ginny laughed turning to Violet, her quill twirling around her fingers once again with excitement, and all the chances there were of the ginger finishing her potions work were lost. _And I mean, this isn’t all in my head, Potter knows something is up too._ Violet’s mind was not on quidditch; normally she would be ecstatic. She would probably have been bouncing off the walls, getting shushed at more times that you could count. This is, after all, what she’s always wanted. However, her reaction was anything but that. She had way more pressing matters to deal with at the moment. _Maybe if I talked to Harry, he would—no, no, he was the one that warned me, he doesn’t want me chasing after Malfoy._

“Violet, what do you think?” Emma asked. Violet looked up sharply; she had been too lost in her thoughts and hadn’t followed the conversation.

“Uh...yeah,” she said forcing a weak smile, “…potions, Slughorn. Always intense...” she said randomly then stood, up hitting the table with her knees.

“Vi, you feeling okay?” Alyssa asked, but Violet just let out a huff and gathered her books.

“I’ll see you guys later,” she managed to say and ran out of the library. She couldn’t concentrate, her curiosity had gotten the best of her and now she couldn’t stop thinking about this situation.

To Violet’s annoyance, the corridors were crowded with people, when she emerged from the library. The last classes of the day had been let out and students now hurried back to their dorms, excited to get some rest and free time. Deciding that it was to hard to navigate around the clumps of anxious first years, gossiping 4th year girls, and rough housing Huffelpuff and Slytherin boys, she headed back to the Gryffindor Tower where she’d drop off her heavy bag.

Violet quickly slurred the password to the fat lady; then pushed around the Gryffindor common room, up to the girl’s dorms. Violet headed down the small hallway and stopped in front of the two 5th year girl dorm rooms. Violet peered into the first one and saw Lily Darten, who gave Violet a smile that wasn’t returned. Violet pushed into the second room and dropped her book bag on her bed, relieved that her dorm was empty, for the other girls still talked in the library.

After removing her robes and sweater vest so that she was only left in a now more comfortable uniform—white blouse, gray skirt, Gryffindor tie— she left the Gryffindor tower, her wand clutched in her right hand. Violet hurried down the corridors, bumping into students amongst the dense crowds. However, as she continued her path towards the seventh floor corridor she had followed Malfoy to a couple days before, the students got scarcer until she was almost, completely alone. She felt an uneasy shiver run down her body when she came face to face with the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls ballet in empty passageway, marking the area where hid the Room. Taking a deep breath, she willed the door into existance, then waited. Nothing happened. She let out a frustrated sigh and tried it again, but she knew it wouldn’t do anything. All the D.A members had learned the year before that the room would only presents itself when someone was in need of it. Well she was in need of it wasn’t she? What could Malfoy possibly need in there more than her?

 _I need to see what Mafloy is doing._ Nothing. _I really need to see what Draco Malfoy is up to in the room._ Nothing _I really need to be in the Room of Requirement exactly where Draco Malfoy disappears to every day._ Still nothing. _I really need to find—_ her quiet pleading to the door were interrupted by the noise of laughter down the hall, coming towards her direction. She let out an irritated breath. Why couldn’t any one just leave her be for a couple minutes. She really just needed a place where she could think in peace…Just then the wall shifted and within a blink of an eye the appearing closet door had grown into the majestic entrance she had seen so many times before.

With a smile of satisfaction Violet pulled the door open, with surprising ease, and was inside before anyone could see her.


	6. The Silver Key

Violet was breathless, the Room of Requirement no longer looked like it had the previous year. The room was bigger than she ever imagined. The ceiling, which reached higher then it had ever before, was covered in graceful arches, all held together by crafted keystones. The room stretched so far, she could not see the opposite side. However, it wasn’t the size of the room that was the most unfamiliar, but what was in it. Unlike the empty room it had been, today she was faced with a labyrinth of random things staked high like teetering buildings. As Violet walked deeper into the room, she noticed armoires, chairs, lamps, desks, mirrors, hats, a wig, hundreds of books, and anything else one could think of in great piles that could potentially reach the ceiling. The objects caught by the dying sun casted faint shadows across the exceptionally dark room.

 She approached a worktable and pulled upon a drawer, the wood making a scratching noise as it opened, and inside she found a muggle pen, quills, and several jeweled necklaces. Curiosity soon washed over the Gryffindor as she looked around herself. A few steps away from her, on a very old wardrobe, she found an empty birdcage. Violet wondered how long it had been there. She slid her hand against the cold marble surface of the wardrobe, then down one of its legs, resting on a handle. She pulled it open. There was a sudden chirping noise, and a little white bird stepped out of the shadows within it. It chirped at the girl happily before fluttering its wings a few times, but could not seem to take off. With gentle, slow movements, Violet cupped her hands, letting the white sparrow hop into them. Carefully she raised her arms, taking the creature out of the wardrobe, and watched it fly away.

A smile crept onto Violet’s face, and she followed after the bird. She chased it around corners, behind tables and bikes, until she was so deep into the room she was afraid that she would not find her way out. The bird tweeted a happy song form above, continuing its flight. Violet moved from behind a bookshelf to follow, but then something else caught her eye. Turning her head slowly, she peered through shelves to get a better look. On a desk was the silver, glistening object Malfoy had had, however, before she could make out what it was a figure stepped in front of her gaze; Malfoy, himself. Violet shifted herself quietly so that she was hidden behind a row of books on the bookshelf. He took the object into his free hand then turned away, stopping in front of a cabinet.

This cabinet was no ordinary cabinet. It did not look like any Violet had ever seen. Instead of the usual cube or rectangle shape, it had a bizarre sideways pyramid form. It’s roof slanted downwards towards the back. Its wood was a deep black, but was covered in a layer of dust, making it seem lighter than it really was. There were two metal, sculpted doorknobs on each side, and two crescent moons carved into each door. Malfoy lifted the sliver object in front of him studying it. It was a key! It was an old one, to go with the cabinet, at that. Its handle sculpted so it matched the doorknob.

Using the key, the Slytherin opened the cabinet. His attention was then turned towards the little chirping sparrow than had now flown to its top. He raised his wand, pointing it at the bird then muttering a spell under his breath. The white bird let out a violent chirp and fluttered its wings frantically, but magic was much stronger than it. Roughly, Malfoy lowered the bird into the cabinet and shut the door. He waved his wand and stepped back. Nothing happened for several seconds, but then there was a satisfying click and the door swung open. Violet peered from her hiding spot to see what had happened, but Malfoy’s figure blocked her view. Using his wand once again, he levitated something and set it on a near by table, a grin on his face. It was the bird, but the bird no longer sang and danced like it had before. No, now the bird laid motionless, _dead_. Violet bit back a gasp, narrowing her eyes loathingly as she watched Malfoy.

Just then, there was a loud clatter from near by and she frozen. So did Malfoy. The two of them stood completely still, Violet trying not to be seen, and Malfoy trying to see the source of the ruckus. He raised his wand and pointed towards the area the noise had sounded from.

“Who’s there?” he hissed. There was no answer, and no one moved.

“Show yourself,” he demanded, but there was still no reply, “ _Specialis Revelio!_ ” There was a glow of light, but then nothing. However, if one listened just carefully enough, they could hear a quiet shuffling of feet, “ _Petrificus Totalus!_ ” And icy beam of light shot forward. Malfoy marched over to where he had thrown his spells.

It was then that Violet saw him. Several feet away, hiding behind a large table staked high with cauldrons, was Harry Potter. He and Violet made eye contact, and he raised his finger to his lips, telling her to stay quiet. Then, Harry pointed to himself, his wand, next towards a very frustrated Malfoy, them both, and finally behind himself towards the door. Violet nodded.

“I know you’re here!” Malfoy called, followed by a loud thump that Violet could only guess was a book thrown to the ground in irritation, “I will find you!”

Potter muttered something and there was a loud crash as Malfoy was blown backwards. Without a second word, both, Harry and Violet sprinted through the room.

She ran into objects, stumbled, and got scratches, but she did not stop. She glanced behind herself nervously and when she looked back in front, the poor girl was face to face with an abnormally large, metal lamp.

Violet was thrown to the ground, her forehead pounding violently. Her breaths quickened as she sat up rubbing it, however before she could get up, a voice sounded behind her.

“Not another move, Ward” Malfoy snarled, and she gulped, closing her eyes. When Violet opened them again he was right in front of her.

“Get up,” he said raising his wand to her, “Slowly…”

She did as she was told and when she was standing there was a silence. Malfoy’s wand was pointed at her face.

“Malfoy, I—”

“What are you doing here?” He cut in, his eyes narrowing in on her in a menacing way. “How much did you see?”

“I-I needed a bathroom, and I found this place,” She lied, “I swear I just got here—”

“Don’t lie to me, Ward” Malfoy said sharply, then repeated himself, “What. Were. You. Doing. Here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Violet snapped and she could _almost_ see the shock in Malfoy’s eyes. To be honest she was a little shocked, herself. No one said anything, and Violet took this chance to raise her wand, “What the hell is that cabinet and what are you doing with it?”

“Why should I tell you?” He asked, raising his own wand even higher. Clenching her free hand, she struggled to think of a witty remark

“Malfoy, I will—” She didn’t get a chance to finish her threat, for Malfoy had cast a disarming spell and Violet’s wand now rested in his left hand. She cursed herself for getting distracted with something as simple as a smart comeback.

“What was that you were saying?” Malfoy mocked, one of his famous smirks appearing on his lips. Violet suddenly felt extremely vulnerable. She took three steps backwards, but Malfoy took four forward. She desperately tried to think of an escape, but her brain was suddenly very fuzzy. She took a deep breath, realizing there was no better way of getting out, so she turned around and ran. Yet, she made it no farther than the mysterious black cabinet, before she felt a strong hand grasp her wrist. Seconds later she had been pushed against the old thing; Malfoy’s face now dangerously close to hers.

“Ward, I swear if I find you near my stuff again, I will ruin you.”

“Please, Malfoy, you’re hurting me,” she whimpered as his grasp on her arm tightened.

“You, half breed.” He spat, “When the time comes, _he_ will have you killed.”

“Malfoy—” She whimper again.

“Your pureblood father married a disgusting muggle, that makes him a blood traitor,” Malfoy continued, “He’s just as bad as mudbloods in _our_ eyes. And so are you.” _Our_ eyes? Violet let out a shaky breath.

“Get your hands off me, you repulsive, inconsiderate, gargoyle.” She managed to say between clenched teeth. Malfoy released her harshly, and she was able to grasp her wand, finally feeling a little control.

“Get the hell out, and I swear if you tell anyone what you saw…” he hissed, but Violet was already sprinting past chairs, tables, and bookshelves.

Violet ran down the corridor, her heart beating so fast she thought her chest would explode. She had to get back to Gryffindor tower, before he noticed. She had to. He was going to kill her. A chilling fear pulsed through her veins, making her run faster.

 _________________

“There you are! You missed dinner,” Emma shouted with relief as Violet emerged into the dorm room. Violet was panting, a shinny layer of sweat had appeared over her skin, a fresh bruise on her forehead, and her hair was a complete mess. All three girls had their eyes on her, “We were so worried.”

“Vi, you look like you were just thoroughly shagged,” Alyssa said with an uncontrollable grin. Ginny shot Alyssa a harsh stare of warning before standing up and hugging Violet.

“Are you okay?” She asked in between hugs.

“Yeah…” Violet mumbled, “I’m…I’m going to take a shower.” She said pulling away from Ginny and grabbing a towel, soap, a pair of sweatpants, and a t-shirt from her trunk. She then exited the room and headed towards the girl dormitory showers without another word.

Violet stepped into the cubicle and pulled the curtain. After undressing herself she raised her wand to one of the two panels on the ceiling, deciding on the water temperature she wanted, while casting a spell to turn it on. She let the warm water run through her hair and down her shoulders, a stressful sigh escaping her mouth. Violet reached over, setting her wand down in a dry corner with her clothes, and taking something else into her hands.

She held it up to her face, her breath quickening slightly. Clenched between Violet Ward’s fingers was the sculpted, silver key. _Malfoy was going to kill her_.

 


	7. A No Good, Very Bad Day.

Violet lay motionless in her bed. Her gaze was fixed on the stone ceiling. A bird chirped outside, reminding her of the night before. Alyssa’s toad croaked somewhere near Emma’s bed. The others were asleep, she could hear their soft, even breaths, but Violet was not. Her breaths were shallow and quick. It was very early and only a small beam of light shot into the room from the sun outside, that was hardly visible from behind the mountains. _It must be five a.m.,_ she thought to herself. Violet continued to lie there, she was awfully tiered, yet could not sleep. Every time her eyes fluttered shut she saw Malfoy’s menacing face in front of hers, his wand pointed at her.

However, she must have ended up falling back to sleep, for when she opened her eyes, the room was radiating with light and the others were stirring awake in their own beds.

“I had the best dream,” Alyssa muttered from her bed, “It was about this yellow liger that was—”

“Please, ‘Lyssa, it’s too early in the morning for your nonsense,” Emma interrupted with a yawn as she rolled over and out of her bed.

Violet sat up and rubbed her eyes, then fished under her bed for her slippers. The girl stood up and walked over to the mirror. The nasty bruise on her forehead was now practically invisible thanks to the healing spell Ginny had gotten Hermione to use on her.

Violet went over to her trunk and pulled her robes over her head lazily, when something fell from her pocket and hit the floor with a thump. She dropped to the ground, quickly shoving it back out of sight before the others could notice. She had to keep it hidden; no one could know she had that key.

           

At breakfast the poor girl nocked over a jug of milk, but besides that the rest of the morning went by somewhat smoothly, until Transfiguration, of course.

“Very well,” Professor McGonagall said as she stood up from her desk, “Now that the assignment is understood, I will be collecting your homework as you get started.”

“ _Homework_? What homework?” Violet whispered to Alyssa, who sat next to her.

“You know, that boring sheet on Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration,” Alyssa muttered back with boredom, taking a very messy piece of crumpled parchment out and wrote her name on it.

“No, what sheet? I didn’t do any sheet!” Violet said frantically, her palms suddenly very moist. She shot a glance behind her at McGonagall. The Professor glided from table to table and through the aisles, her purple cloak swooshing after her, “Alyssa, I didn’t do it!”

“Enh, it’s fine, I practically never do my homework,” She answered, not really paying attention as she doodle on the table.

“No, you don’t understand. I didn’t do my—”

“Miss Sings, Miss Ward…a little less chatting and a little more working,” Professor McGonagall said from above them. She picked up Alyssa’s parchment and raised a worried eyebrow as she scanned the girl’s homework. Violet swallowed roughly, keeping her head on her desk… Just waiting for it…

“Miss Ward?” _There it was_. Violet whipped her sweaty hands on her skirt, “Your homework, please.”

“I…uh…” Violet said not meeting McGonagall’s eyes, “I… didn’t do it, ma’am.”

There was a sigh of disappoint, and Violet finally looked up. The professor stared down at her with her lips pursed.

“Miss Ward, did I not give you a week to complete this?”

Violet nodded.

“Well… I guess since this is your first time, I won’t punish you too badly,” she began, tapping her wand against the stack of parchments in her hands, “However, you will have to turn it in next class and I will be taking four points from Gryffindor.” Violet nodded once again then looked down, sure that her ears were bright red. Though, she was thankful this was in McGongall’s class, knowing the Professor would never have taken away too many points, since she was after all, Head of Gryffindor.

 _________________

“Aw, don’t beat yourself up too much, Vi,” Alyssa called behind her as Violet stormed down the corridor.

“That was so embarrassing!”

“Nah, you’re over reacting. It wasn’t that bad,” Alyssa reassured her. Violet shrugged as they continued walking. She turned a corner and started towards the Great Hall, but stopped realizing Alyssa was not by her side anymore.

“Aren’t you coming to lunch?” Violet asked.

“No, actually Emma promised to help me with my charms essay,” Alyssa said heading down a separate corridor, “We’ll be in the common room.”

“Oh, okay.” Violet muttered. Hopefully, Ginny would already be in the hall when she arrived.

Sure enough, when Violet walked past the giant doors she spotted the ginger seated with Harry, Ron, and Hermione. The four of them were huddled together, deep in conversation. She walked over to the group, sitting herself down next to Ginny, catching something about Malfoy before the four immediately stopped talking. Hermione peered at Violet through her frizzy hair and Harry shifted in his seat.

“Uh, I’m not so hungry,” Ron said eyeing Violet and reluctantly setting his chicken leg down, “How about we go back to the common room…” The others nodded and quickly stood up. Ginny flashed Violet a weak smile before getting up and following the others.

“Ginny!” Violet called back, and the girl stopped, turning around, “You’re not going to stay and eat with me?”

“No, uh…” She said glancing back at the others.

“What’s this all about?” Violet said feeling a bit disappointed.

“Just…Mafloy and Harry, you know,” Ginny said tapping her fingers against her leg.

“What did he do?”

“Er…Violet, look, it doesn’t involve you,” She said looking behind her again.

“But it does involve me…” Violet began, but Ginny shook her head.

“Violet, it really doesn’t. Please, just mind your own buisness,” She then turned away.

Violet shifted, bringing her hand to her thigh and feeling the hard object—the key— in the inner pocket of her cloak. Oh, but it did involve her… more than Ginny could ever imagine. She gazed around the Great Hall, watching groups of friends eat together, talking and laughing. She sat alone. No friends sat with her today.

Violet hurried her lunch, trying to get out of the hall as soon as she could, not wanting to look anymore like a poor lonely girl than she already did. Realizing it was a quarter ‘til one, she decided to head to her 6th year D.A.D.A. class straight away, instead of stopping by the common room. However, deep down she knew it was just so she didn’t have to go back up to Gryffindor Tower, and see all her…friends.

It annoyed Violet so much, how Ginny had just left her all alone. How the Golden Trio had refused to talk around her. If only they knew; if only they knew Violet had the precious key to the mysterious cabinet Malfoy obsessed over. Whatever it was Malfoy was doing, he could not do it without the key. Where was he anyways? Come to think of it, she had not seen him at the Slytherin table during breakfast or lunch. Though, she was not complaining. She was really dreading seeing him, and it was bad enough she had to sit next to him in her 6th year class.

Violet looked up as she turned down an empty corridor, becoming aware that she had made it to the classroom. No one else had arrived yet and the door was locked, so instead, she set her book bag down and leaned against the wall. She fiddled with her wand, levitating a leaf that had floated in through an open window

“WARD!” a booming, angry voice came down the empty corridor. Violet jumped in surprise, dropping her wand, “You filthy half-breed!” Before she knew it a fuming Malfoy had joined her by the classroom door. Violet took a step back, her mind whirling.

“Where is it?” He snarled pointing his wand at her.

“I-I don’t know what you’re taking about,” she lied, eyeing her wand on the floor.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Ward” he came up close to Violet, slamming her against the wall, cornering her. Her palms sweated. They sweated more than they had during her exams and more than they had earlier that morning with McGonagall.

“Please, Malfoy! I don’t know—”

“You’re lying!” He snapped, bringing his hand around her windpipe, but not closing on it, _yet._

“Where is it?” Violet’s breath quickened, she could feel her heart thumping hard in her chest. Malfoy could feel it too, and a smirk grew on his face, enjoying the power he had at the moment. His eyes gave off a terribly dangerous look; one she’d never seen on anyone before.

“Malfoy,” she said, only managing a whisper, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He pressed her harder against the wall then brought his wand up to her throat. Violet could feel the key pocking the back of her thigh between herself and the stone wall. This only made her even less at ease. Malfoy brought his face close to hers, his mouth almost touching her ear. Then, matching her whisper, he spoke.

“Ward, you are going to tell me where the key is.” There was a pause, and Violet felt very uncomfortable, her mind screaming at her to get away, but she couldn’t, “You are going to get me the key,” another pause, “And you are going to hand it to me…right now.”

She didn’t move, and his grip on her windpipe tightened causing her to cough. She still didn’t move.

“Malfoy!” a voice harshly called. Though, Violet could not see the person, she knew the voice belonged to Harry. She heard footsteps join him as the rest of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class arrived to the scene, “Malfoy…” He repeated. No one moved.

“ _Stupefy_!” Potter yelled as he marched over and Malfoy pulled away from Violet just in time to cast a shielding charm. She took this chance to snatch her wand and bag then scurried over to the safety of the other students.

“ _Baubillious_!” but Potter’s spell was once again deflected by a shielding charm. Harry advanced, whipping spell after spell after curse, but each one was blocked by Malfoys charms.

“Harry don’t!” Hermione screamed from the crowd, but the fighting continued. The duel went on for another couple minutes, more and more bystanders arriving.

“ _Expelliarmus_!” Finally, Malfoy’s wand flew through the air and into Harry’s hand.

“What now Potter?” Malfoy mocked. He was so calm, so controlled—well except for his eyes. She could almost see the fear dancing in them. “You gonna kill me?” he said smirking and shook his head so that his hair fell over his eyes, hiding the slight fear he had just shown.

Harry stood there his wand still in hand, “You really are a—”

“Well, well…what do we have here?” came a deep voice from behind the crowd. All the students separated and out of the shadows came a surprisingly amused looking Professor Snape, “Mr. Potter, will you—” he walked towards the two boys, circling them, “—lower your wand.”

Adversely, he did as he was told, “Professor, Malfoy was—”

“Mr. Potter, am I not wrong that you are the one wielding your wand, and…” he grasped Harry’s left hand, “…holding Mr. Malfoy’s wand? Hmm yes. Thirty points from Gryffindor!” There was a silence, but Violet could faintly hear the snickering of Pansy Parkinson behind her.

“Into class,” Snape then said addressing the crowd and pointing his wand to the door, letting it swish open.

With wide eyes, the students pilled into the room, taking their seats. Violet sank into hers, refusing to make eye contact with Malfoy. No one spoke, everyone watching Snape as he headed to his desk. However, right before reaching it he turned sharply his gaze drifting through the room, eyeing each student.

"The kind of behavior presented by Mr. Potter today was—" he paused "—and is unacceptable." He said in a flat, dead voice. "If I catch another Gryffindor holding themselves in this manner...there will be severe consequences"

"Professor, forgive me, but I don't find it fair that only the Gryffindors ar—"

"Miss Granger did I give you permission to speak?" Snape said raising an eyebrow. "10 points from Gryffindor.” And with that he turned to the black board, jotting down exercises.

Irritation prickled under Violet’s skin. What was Snape’s problem? She pulled out a roll of parchment then reached under chair to grab her copy of _Dark Forces: Grade Six._ When returning she let out a sharp sigh, for her parchment was no longer there. Assuming it had fallen, she ducked under the desk to search for it, but it was nowhere to be found. The girl sat back up, and to her surprise, there it was. With a mixture of suspicion and frustration, she pulled it closer and grabbed her quill. However, before she could get to work something else caught her eye. There was something written on the top left corner in small handwriting.

 

**_Where is it?_ **

 

Violet’s head shot sharply to her left, glaring at Malfoy, yet she did not say anything. The girl crossed out the words. She went back to work, but only to be interrupted minutes later by a small stomp on her foot. It didn’t hurt, but it was enough to provoke a surprised yelp from her mouth. Professor Snape raised his eyes from his desk only to look down again.

She shook her head, telling herself that the solution here is to ignore Malfoy. But, as the class continued his small and immature disturbances got more and more distracting.

“Waaard…” Malfoy ‘sang’ in a whisper; again she didn’t answer, shifting herself farther away from him, and he clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, “The key—”

            “Malfoy, will you—” she began in a voice that was slightly louder than expected.

            “Miss Ward…” Snape snapped with his eyes still on his book. Violet’s cheeks turned a slight shade of pink and she knew Malfoy was smirking.

            Violet relaxed back into her chair as she finished her last word. She dabbed her quill on a cloth and then closed her inkbottle. She eyed Snape nervously, not wanting to go and hand in her paper, fearing that Malfoy would do something to her stuff behind her back. She watched the classroom clock anxiously, counting each minute in her head. The tick-tock of the clock practically ringing in her mind; this was taking forever.

            Malfoy let out a shallow—almost fake sounding—cough, bringing his arm to his mouth, while hitting his inkbottle with his elbow. The little jug tipped over rolling onto Violet’s parchment.

            “Oops,” Malfoy said as the black ink poured onto her work. She wiped out her wand, quickly removing the ink until only a blot of already dried ink remained in the corner. She bit her lip furiously. It was not too bad, though. Only the first line was illegible, but she was able to make it work. But, of course, as she rewrote her name of the page, a certain someone gently nudged her arm so that her surname was smudged.

            “Oh my god! Malfoy—”

            “Miss Ward!” Snape said in a quiet shout, “Quiet yourself, please. Five points from Gryffindor.” There was a sigh from her fellow house members and yet again she could feel her ears turn pink.

            Finally, the bell rung. Making sure to grab all her stuff before getting up, she headed over to Snape’s desk. Violet set her paper down and turned, but before she could disappear, Snape stopped her.

            “This parchment is a pig’s mess.”

            “I know, Sir…” She was about to go into how her work had gotten that way, but decided it was best not to.

            “Hmm, two points from Gryffindor.”

            _What the hell!_ Violet walked away, giving a vigorous sigh. Sometimes—no—most times she just could not believe Snape. And, to her _luck_ , she would be seeing him again after the break for her 5th year D.A.D.A. class. _Just great…_

            “Fun class, eh Ward?” Malfoy scorned. With a deep breath, she managed to not give any sort of reply, “Well, if you’re going to be like that…” he said and eventually went down a different corridor, leaving her alone. Although, she felt this would not be the last of Draco Malfoy.

 ____________

            Violet’s hand drifted to her right pocket, and smiled at its empty feeling. After her earlier encounter with Malfoy, Violet felt it was safer to keep the key in her dorm, knowing Malfoy _couldn’t_ get into Gryffindor Tower. She had just finished Defense Against the Dark Arts, yet here she was back at the classroom door. She had no idea how she would make it through another class with Snape. The girl started to rethink her idea of taking advanced D.A.D.A classes. Maybe she could ask McGonagall…No! No, she wasn’t going to let Malfoy or Snape ruin her love for Defensive/Offensive magic.

The Gryffindor walked into the room then sat at a wooden desk opposite to the one she was at earlier. The only good thing about this class is that Malfoy would not be there. Instead of being stuck next to the blonde git, she would have Ginny at her side. Ginny…She wasn’t sure if she was still mad at the girl or not. After all she was quite annoyed, but she really didn’t need any more enemies. Violet looked up when Ginny enter the room, quickly deciding she would apologize. But…did she really need to apologize? She had done nothing wrong, and for all she knows Ginny has no idea Violet was mad. With a very confused expression, Violet turned back to the front of the class.

“What’s on your mind?”

“Oh, Ginny, hey!” Violet said, with more enthusiasm than she intended. Both Gryffindors sat in silence, but it wasn’t an awkward one. It was more like a quiet understanding. Soon enough the classroom was filled with 5th year Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, and both girls knew it wouldn’t be best to talk about everything so near to ease dropping students.

“Hey, Violet?” Ginny asked

“Yeah?”

“Please seat yourselves,” came an unpleasant, flat voice. Of course, Professor Snape… “Quiet”

The students who were standing, were now seated. Snape did his usual stroll down the center row, suddenly stopping in front of Sam.

“Mr. Daniels, what have I said…about chewing gum in class?”

The entire room held its breath and Sam’s eyes grew wide.

“This will coast Gryffindor two points,” With that the Professor continued his walk and seated himself at his desk.

“As everyone is aware…” he flicked his wand and a stack of papers rows into the air, “…there is a quiz today.” Some kids nodded, others like Alyssa shifted uncomfortably in their seats, and some like Luna Lovegood stared at the ceiling. Unlike earlier that day with McGongall, Violet was prepared for this work assignment. Her quills were ready and her ink was open.

“Violet, I just wanted to apologize.” Ginny whispered as their quizzes hovered above their heads.

“Miss Weasley, you are aware that the quizzes are about to start, 2 points from Gryffindor” Snape said, obviously seeing her talk, “It’s a shame. Gryffindor doesn’t nearly have as many stones as the other houses, I believe.”

 _You believe… It’s not like you walk by the House Point Hourglasses everyday, making sure your precious Slytherins remain on top,_ Violet thought dryly and noted that Snape’s known vendetta against Gryffindor was exceptionally strong today.

“… You may begin,” Snape finished and the pages fell onto the desks in front of each student. Violet grabbed her quill, scanning over the parchment.

 

  1. **_What is the correct definition of the Conjunctivitis Curse?_**
  2. **_Damages a conjured item_**
  3. **_Conjures a random Curse_**
  4. **_Damages opponent’s eyesight_**
  5. **_Burns opponent’s eyeballs_**



 

Violet chewed her lip, reading over the possible answers several times, before circling “C”. The next questions, however, came much faster.

“I forgive you,” Violet whispered, after completing a couple questions.

“You’re not mad?” Ginny mouthed, silently.

“No, well I was, but now… no,” she muttered.

“Miss Ward,” Snape called and Violet gritted her teeth. Great…just great, “You do remember this is a quiz.” She could see the corner of his mouth twitch as he fought back a sly smile. So much anger was pumping through her blood. Snape seriously has an issue.

“Oh my god, what is it?” Violet said stiffly.

The words had escaped her before she knew what she was saying. Several people gasped, looking up from their parchments. Behind Snape, however, Alyssa, Sam and a few Ravenclaws grinned with hilarity.

“Detention, Saturday morning, my office,” Snape’s almost smile disappearing. “I do not take cheek from anyone, Miss Ward.”

 

“That was brilliant!” Ginny chortled once they were safely heading back to Gryffindor tower.

“You really shouldn’t have said it,” Emma sighed, but Violet could see her fight back a smile, “I have to admit, though, it was funny.”

“Dillgrout,” Alyssa said as they arrived to the Fat Lady, “Honestly, Vi, I wish I had your guts.”

“No you don’t,” Violet replied with a lot of frustration, “No, it was stupid of me. The Gryffindor/Hufflepuff quidditch game is tomorrow. It’s the first of the season.”

“Well, you won’t miss it,” Ginny said, setting a comforting hand on her back, “The game is after lunch, there’ll be time.”

“Still,” Violet moaned, “I really don’t want to spend my Saturday morning in detention.”

The following hour, Violet spent in a full on rant about how her comment wasn’t worth it. The girls brained stormed ideas to get her to avoid detention, but when Alyssa started bringing up ligers, Violet knew there was no way out of it.

However, as everyone walked down to the Great Hall, Violet started to feel a little better. She laughed at dinner, and Ginny had even sat with them, like she did at the beginning of the year, and the years before. Malfoy wasn’t at the Slytherin table. This worried her at first, but she remembered the key was safely hidden in her dorm, where he couldn’t get it. There was nothing he could do that could hurt her, and she was glad she didn’t have to see him. This being said, as they left the Great Hall, Violet did indeed spot Malfoy; however, he didn’t acknowledge her. Violet noticed that he was missing his green tie, and she was sure Professor Flitwick would have taken away more than half of Slytherin’s house points if he saw the young man. The Professor had always been known for his rigger when it came to uniform. This brought a smile to Violet’s cheeks. Maybe this terrible day will have a happy ending.

“I swear Snape was starring you down, the entire meal,” Emma laughed, nudging Violet gently as they walked through the common room to their dorm.

“He’s just upset that Vi was able to stand up to him,” Alyssa said.

“Our whole year will hear about it soon enough. I bet he’s scared.” Ginny chuckled.

“Yeah right,” Violet said, “I don’t think Snape is scared of anything.”

“Except, maybe, laughter,” Emma joked as she pushed open the dorm room door, but immediately fell silent.

“What is it?” Ginny asked, peering over her, “Shit…”

Violet frowned scooting past Alyssa to see what had happened, and when she saw it, her throat went dry. Their room had been completely ransacked. Each four-poster bed was undone, the sheets carelessly thrown over the headboard or lying on the floor. The drawers to every cabinet and every dresser were open. Violet’s nightstand was even tipped over. One corner of the maroon and white rug was pulled back as if someone had looked under it. All the trunks and book bags where open. Books lay on the ground and the curtains were a mess. There wasn’t an inch of the room that hadn’t been gone through.

Ginny stepped in followed by the others. Violet looked around, speechless like everyone else. The dorm was obviously searched, but by whom, and for what? The four girls wandered around the room, looking through their things and putting them back in order.

“Uh…does anyone know why there’s a Slytherin tie on my bed?” asked Ginny with disgust picking it up with her wand. Violet’s heart suddenly leaped into her throat and she dropped to the ground. She heaved a metallic box from under her bed. Like the rest of the room, this box had been searched and Violet’s heart pounded. She pushed through her bathroom supplies and pulled a cardboard tampon box from under a shampoo bottle. She squinted into it. The girl then let out a deep sigh, pulling out _the key_. He didn’t find it.

______________ 

Violet lay motionless in her bed. Her gaze was fixed on the stone ceiling. An owl hooted outside, reminding her of reality. Alyssa’s toad croaked somewhere near Emma’s bed. The others were asleep, she could hear their soft, even breaths, but Violet was not. Her breaths were shallow and quick. It was very late and a large beam of pale light shot into the room from the moon that was visible from her window. _It must be one a.m._ She thought to herself. Violet continued to lie there, she was awfully tiered, yet could not sleep. Every time her eyes fluttered shut she saw Malfoy’s menacing face in front of hers. She wasn’t even safe in her own dorm. She felt hopeless. How did she get herself into this mess?

 


	8. Breathless

Two weeks, two full weeks, and the blond Slytherin never approached Violet. In Defense Against the Dark Arts classes, he would scarcely speak to her. During meals at the Great Hall, he has yet to bump into her roughly. Not a single remark, nor insult was slurred to her during the two quidditch matches that had occurred. Her last name had not been muttered with disgust between his clenched jaws. Two weeks without Draco Malfoy. Two weeks of peace.

However, these two weeks weren’t as comfortable as one would expect. Underneath the light, and below the happiness, was something dark and heavy. Something, Violet couldn’t see or notice, but it was there, weighing down on her subconsciously. As the days went on, this invisible darkness became slightly more apparent, yet did so with such a discreet manner that she couldn’t understand what was coming over her.

It started off with a dryness in her throat as she left her 6th year D.A.D.A classes or tickling in her toes when she passed the Slytherin table at dinner. Nonetheless, it had now grown into an impulsive feeling inside of her. She constantly felt on edge, her bones always aching to get up, go somewhere, and do something, but she didn’t know what or where. She always felt antsy, adrenaline pulsing in her figure tips. The girl never felt at ease.

“Violet…” a voice called, “Miss Violet Ward, please pay attention!”

She looked up meeting eyes with Professor Flitwick, one of the only Professors that always referred to her by her first name, “Er…yes, sorry,” she mumbled realizing she’d been sitting on the very edge of her chair and gazing out the window. She shifted back onto her seat, pulling her parchment and wand closer to herself.

“As I’ve said before, I see Charms as a slightly lighter subject than Transfiguration, which is very hard work. With Charms there is a little more leeway for a little more personal creativity — With Transfiguration you have to get it exactly right, Transfiguration is more scientific” Flitwick said continuing his speech and turning back to the class. “This can be used to ones advantage, but also may lead to their down fall. You see it is that imagination that allows a witch or wizard to add strength to their charm, to manipulate it in order to get a task done exactly as it is wished. However, if one lacks creativity, or if one is merely having a bad day, a charm will be executed with much less control and power. This cannot be taught from a book, but found within the individual and…” Violet blinked as she struggled to follow the lesson, “…so far this year we have been learning how a …” she clenched her fist, forcing herself from drifting into the depths of her thoughts once again, “…take note of this, it will be very important for your O.W.L’s. There will be most definitely questions like these…” Violet started tapping her feet on the stone floor, energy throbbing in her legs. She needed to get out of this class. She need to leave and go there, but where was there? Where did she need to go?

“Violet, will you please join the class.” Professor Flitwick said adjusting his round glasses and staring at her dancing feet, “If you’re so interested in the drums, then you should have joined my school band.”

“Sorry,” she said looking down and stilling her feet. With a huff, the goblin-wizard continued his course.

When the old bronze bell rung from outside, signaling the beginning of a new hour and the end of this class, Violet practically jumped out of her seat, only to be stopped by Professor Flitwick.

“Violet, a word please,” the part-goblin said mounting his special long legged chair at his desk and gathering his papers. Violet stopped, letting the other students push past her until there was no one else in the room. Flitwick beckoned her closer, but she didn’t move. She needed to get out of this class. Flitwick stayed silent for a bit, running his fingers along the edge of his thick brown moustache, then spoke with a sigh.

“Violet, I’m worried about you. You’ve been acting fairly different the last couple classes. Is everything okay?”

She nodded, but kept her gaze on the floor in front of her.

“Ah, but you aren’t” he said adjusting his glasses again, “You can talk to me, you never hesitated to in the past.”

It was true. Flitwick was one the very few teachers Violet felt she could talk quite openly with. Flitwick was a close friend of her father’s back when they were lads. He had even showed up at her house for a few dinners before she started attending at this grand wizarding school. In fact, during her first year, she had often found herself heading towards Professor Flitwick’s office for help and advice.

He raised an eyebrow, but she just shrugged and glanced anxiously at the clock. The uncontrollable rush was becoming unbearable, she just needed to get out of this class; she needed to take a walk and find herself. God, what was coming over her? They both stood in silence, but Violet felt Flitwick still wanted and answer, and she thought I would be rude to just leave.

“What’s that in your hand?” He finally said and Violet raised her right hand.

“My wand…” she retorted quietly.

“Violet, you know what I meant. The other hand,” She looked down at her left hand, which twitched fiercely. She didn’t answer. She just needed to get out of this class.

“Professor, I should go,” Violet said dimly, hoisting her bag over her shoulder and turning away

It wasn’t until she had left the room, closed the door, and was halfway down the corridor that she looked down at her left hand and relaxed the clenched muscle, revealing that stupid silver key. She could feel the blood rushing through her body and that ‘on edge’ feeling was getting so over whelming that she wanted to scream—scream until she could scream no more. She always felt this way around the bloody key.

Violet’s pace quickened into a run. She didn’t know where she was headed, but let her legs lead her. She whirled past corridors, classrooms, students, and more corridors until she found herself outside of the castle. Instead of heading down towards the grounds on the northern side of castle—where Hagrid lived, where the Owlery stood, the forbidden forest growled, and of course the wooden bridge hung—which was where most of the students went, she sprinted the opposite direction. Violet hurried past the great hall, through the entrance courtyard, and down towards the black lake. Yet, she did not stop at the sandy beach, which was now deserted due to the approaching winter, but continued on the waters edge until she found herself near the old boathouse. It was only then that she seemed to relax slightly, letting the early November air, cool her down.

Violet set her book bag in the grass and climbed down onto one of the massive boulders that protruded out of the already freezing water. She sat there for several moments twirling the key in her fingers and gazing off onto the lake. She always loved quiet places like these. There was a hand-full of small nooks within the castle and on its grounds that the young Gryffindor loved to go. She’d sit there for hours at a time, alone with her thoughts. She’d do homework or just read a book. It was the quiet peaceful moments like these that gave her mind a rest and it was these hidden corners on Hogwarts grounds that made this place so special to her.

It was just then that she heard a cough from near by, forcing her eyes off of the distant water. Violet looked around, but saw no one. She sat still listening, yet didn’t hear anything else, and so dismissed it as the wind or some random animal.

Low and behold, a minute later came another one, but this time she realized it wasn’t a cough. It was a cry. Someone was crying. She slid off the bolder and walked around boathouse to the other side.

Violet’s breath caught in her throat and her body stiffened. No? No it couldn’t be…but it was.

 “Malfoy?” she asked with a small voice. The boy’s head spun around from where he sat on the grass. He stared at her. His eyes were red and wet; his cheeks freckled with tears. His green tie was undone and the top buttons of his shirt were ripped open. Malfoy brought a hand to his face and roughly whipped the tears away.

“What are _you_ doing here?” he snarled.

“It’s none of your business,” she said so bitterly it surprised even herself. Malfoy didn’t say anything; she could see his hand inch towards his wand.

“I came to clear my mind.” Violet quickly said, seeing where this might of lead. Her eyes ran him over one more time. He truly looked desperate. He looked so lost; his eyes were glazed with a ghostly jell and his skin was even more pale than usual. Suddenly, she felt a wave of pity and sorrow for the Slytherin, “Mind if I sit?” He shrugged and she sat down a couple feet away.

They both sat there quietly for quite sometime, starring out onto the moving reflections on the water’s surface.

“He’s a really bad person, you know,” Malfoy finally said.

“Who?”

He didn’t answer, but looked down at his lap, and there was another round of silence.

“You have it on you, don’t you, Ward.”

“The key?” She asked starring down at her hands, “Malfoy, are you in some sort of trouble?” He didn’t answer and she could see his eyes start to shine with tears, but could feel him holding them back. Violet stood up, made her way over to Malfoy, and then plopped down on her knees behind him. She grasped his right hand gently and slid the key from her palm to his.

“Really?” He asked lifting his head to meet her gaze. He didn’t say it, but she could see the thankfulness and relief in his eyes. To be honest, she too felt relived at the sight of the key in his hand and hers resting empty on her thigh. A weight seemed to be lifted from her shoulders.

Malfoy shifted and leaned closer to her slowly. He got so close that their noses almost touched, but unlike the several other situations where they found themselves this close, there was neither hate nor tension, but instead the slightest of bonds. Her breath hitched as she starred into his deep gray and blue eyes.

His face lingered there for a bit longer before he closed the gap between them and their lips touched. A warm feeling rush through her body and she felt a happiness she hadn’t had for a while now. She deepened the kiss and he rested his hand on her knee, until he pulled away sharply.

“Ward, what are you doing?” He snapped

“I didn’t do anything!” She exclaimed with shock, “You kissed me!”

“Well you weren’t actually supposed to let me kiss you!” He cried and stood up, “I can’t believe this!” He let out a frustrated moan then grabbed his wand and books. “This wasn’t supposed to happen!” he said then turned away, leaving Violet alone.

Her heart dropped deep into her stomach, and she suddenly felt very cold. _He kissed me._ She could still feel his lips on hers, his hand on her knee. She could still feel the happy fluttering within her. Yet, now it all seemed distant and broken. _He kissed me._ But he had pulled away and left. Her breath was heavy, and she felt as if she couldn’t move her body. She had kissed Draco Malfoy, a foe of hers for such a long time. She hated herself. How could she have been so stupid? _He kissed me and I liked it..._


	9. Peace in the Stars

“Urg, I can’t believe this,” Violet muttered as she roughly picked up the clothes that laid so carelessly around her side of the dorm. The other girls weren’t back from supper yet, and she was grateful for that. Due to the earlier incident, she had missed the beginning of the feast and was in no mood to go down to join them for the rest. Violet bent over and snatched a handful of crumpled candy wrappers from the ground. She frowned knowing that Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans and Ton-Tongue Toffee was not the best “dinner” for her to have had, but then again she didn’t care at the moment.

As Violet looked down at the wrappers she felt a hungry rumble in her stomach. Yet, even deeper down, the hunger was masked by a sick feeling that seemed to ooze around her insides, over powering the hunger. Desperately, the young girl let out another irritated moan. She wasn’t sure if what she was feeling was disappointment, regret, or sadness. The uncertainty made her extremely frustrated. She couldn’t stop rethinking, reviewing, and rethinking again what had happened before. Every time the look of disgust on Malfoy’s face pushed its way to the front of her mind she felt a wave of exasperation rush down to her toes and tingle at her fingertips. With a growing resentment she’d shove the feeling way, only to have it reappear minutes later. Violet felt embarrassed; she felt angry; she felt sad. To be honest, she didn’t know which she was feeling or if it was all of the above.

Hastily, she tugged on a pair of black leggings and pulled on a gray sweatshirt that had _Virgin Money London Marathon_ printed across the chest. Violet tossed her school clothes on top of her drawer, not bothering to fold them.

“I can’t believe I kissed him,” she hissed once again, biting her lip, “I can’t believe I kissed Malfoy…”

“What!” Violet shot around as she let out a shaky breath.

“Emma, I—” She began.

“You kissed Malfoy?” The girl entered the door throwing her cloak on her bed and dropping next to Violet on hers. Violet snatched her wand and muttered a spell, sending the door flying shut.

“Please, keep your voice down,” she begged.

“Tell me! Tell me!” Emma said as she bounced on the bed with excitement.

“Shut up!” Violet hissed, “I don’t want any one finding out!” Emma stopped bouncing and leaned forward as the room grew silent.

“….tell me!…” She whispered.

“It was a mistake, okay! He kissed me. It didn’t mean anything.”

“Why? Where?” Emma asked tucking her legs underneath herself, “When?”

“Before supper, by the boat house.” Violet said quietly, “And I don’t know why! It just happened!”

“Why the hell were you with Malfoy at the boat house, during that time of the day?” Emma said, clearly finding Violet’s unfortunate incident the most interesting thing to happen since Ginny’s last date with Dean a few weeks ago, “Did you like it?”

“Like what?” Both of their heads turned towards the door, which hit the wall as it flung open, making way for Alyssa. Violet’s frown deepened while Emma’s smile grew.

“Violet kissed Malfoy!” Emma squealed.

“NO, he kissed me!” Violet corrected with frustration. Alyssa’s jaw dropped before hurrying forward and setting herself on the floor in front of Violet’s bed.

“You kissed Malfoy!” she cried.

“Shut up! He kissed me!” Violet grunted between her teeth, “Keep your voices down.”

“Well? Did you like it?” Alyssa asked with a slightly quieter tone, but she wasn’t really making an effort.

“I-I don’t know!”

“Well did you feel sparks?” Emma said, “Like a warm feeling. Did it make you happy?”

“No of course not, it’s Malfoy!” Violet snapped and shook her head.

“Yeah exactly…” Alyssa’s voice trailed off and Emma nodded vigorously. “Malfoy and Violet sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I—”

“Will you be quiet!” Violet cried as she stood up from the bed, “I don’t want Ginny finding out!”

“Don’t want me finding out what?” Of course Ginny had walked into the room! Seeing how Violet’s luck has gone lately, why would she ever think that the universe would be on her side this time. Great, just great.

“Nothing—”

“VIOLET SNOGGED MALFOY!” Alyssa blurted out and her hand instantly flew to her mouth, her head turning towards Violet with wide eyes.

“I didn’t snog him!” Violet said her cheeks turning red out of anger, but also with embarrassment, “He kissed me.”

“What…” Ginny said, but unlike the other girls she didn’t seem excited. “You and…Malfoy?”

“Yeah at the boat house. That’s why she wasn’t at dinner.” Emma said

“She liked it!” Alyssa added.

“No I didn’t!” Violet snapped desperately. “It was Malfoy. He kissed me. I didn’t like it!”

“Nah, Vi liked it,” Alyssa said with a smug smirk.

“I’m sure he did too!” Emma laughed, “Ah, lucky girl.”

“Don’t you two ever shut up?” Violet screamed and the room went silent. Ginny stared at Violet with a blank expression, but she could see the hatred and disgust in her eyes. “Oh my god!” Violet hissed, grabbing her wand and a pair of sneakers. Then in a flustered air she stormed out of the room, not stopping to put on the shoes until she was out of the common room.

She pranced down the moving staircases and past the final Gryffindors who were hurrying back to the common room before curfew. The corridors were lit by candlelight and she could see herself reflected in the obscure windows now that the sun was hidden under the horizon. However, as she diverted from the main parts of the castle she found herself wandering into dark hallways that weren’t lit by anything but the scarce moonbeams that struggled to peek through the windows. In the distance she herd the faint, but power full, ring of the Bell Tower, signaling it was ten p.m.. It was now officially curfew and if she were caught there would be consequences.

The young Gryffindor had to decide where she was headed quickly or risk getting seen by a teacher or prefect. There was this one section in one of the smaller towers next to the Ravenclaw Tower that she had discovered during her third year. Actually, she had accidently found it when trying to get to Ravenclaw common room. She didn’t know of anyone who ever went up there, and it is believed to be an empty tower which now serves no use (which is true). Most don’t even realize the small steeple exist, tucked away in between Ravenclaw Tower and the Middle Tower. However, the old and small spiral staircase leads to a small room at the top. The circular room is only about 3 meters in diameter and has a large window to the right of the staircase. Violet seemed to be the only one who knews about it, or at least the only one who still visited it. Making up her mind, she turned right and moved towards it.

Violet was met with a bitter breeze as she emerged from the castle into one of Hogwarsts numerous courtyards. Quickly, she drew her sweatshirt tighter round her shivering arms. Seeing as Grynffindor’s common room lied within the West side of the castle while the Ravenclaw common room, the trophy hall, library, and, obviously, the Hidden Tower were located on the East side of the castle, the only way to get there was through the multiple courtyards and bridges that connected the school. A cloud of steam formed in front of her nose, when she exhaled, and she struggled from keeping her teeth from chattering loudly as she ran across a small stone bridge and back inside the warmth of the indoors.

It had gotten late enough now that even the main corridors were dark, with the candles burnt out and lying lifelessly in their holders. It was extremely dark, but she still preferred using the small amount of moonlight that seeped through the windows to using her wand. It was way past curfew and no “But it is only five minutes after, I promise I’m headed right to my common room” or “I’m on my way right now, I just got held up by other students” excuses would work now; she couldn’t risk getting caught. Although, as Violet turned into one of the inner corridors with no windows where the moon was too frail to reach, she couldn’t avoid magic any longer.

“ _Lumos_ ,” Violet muttered quietly and the tip of her wand formed a cool ball of light. She made sure to keep the light dim and weak. As she got closer to her Hidden Tower, she seemed to feel slightly more at ease. She kept her steps brisk and quiet as she went form corridor to corridor, ignoring the occasional groans from annoyed paintings that tried to sleep. And then all at once into the quiet of the night, she heard a voice. Her stomach jumped in surprise and fear. _I don’t need this anyways,_ she thought as she flicked off her wand. _I swear if a teacher catches me…_ She now regretted storming out here. She was a good student, with good behavior and she hated getting in trouble. The first time she got detention was when she was caught after curfew in her third year. Her second was the rendez-vous given by Snape only a few weeks ago. That makes only two detentions, and she didn’t want to add more to the list.

“I don’t know…it seems, well you know” was that Ron’s voice? With slow caution, she poked her head around the corner. Sure enough it was. Farther down the hallway she could make out the silhouettes of Ron Weasley, and whom she guessed was Harry, from the extremely dim light that glowed around Harry’s wand.

“Ron, I heard it with my own ears, just earlier!” Harry hissed.

“But Snape, really? He’s part of the Order and Dumbledore trusts him…”

“Dumbledore made a mistake! Snape is working with them. He’s helping Malfoy.”

“I don’t know Harry…It’s just that an unbreakable vow is… unbreakable.”

“Yes I figured that bit myself,” Harry said, a pressing hitch in his voice. _Unbreakable Vow?_ Violet had heard her father mention it before. Was Harry saying Malfoy had one performed on him?

“Bloody hell, Harry I hope you’re wrong.” Ron squeaked as he finally gave into the idea, “Because if you’re not, then some messed up stuff is going on.”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you and Hermione! Look Snape is a spy and Malfoy…” he paused as he cached his breath, “Well Malfoy’s a Death Eater!”

What? Violet gasped stepping back into the wall his a thud. A _clack_ echoed around her as her wand fell against the stone floor. _Oh god…_ She shut her eyes tight, not daring to move.

“Someone’s near by!” Harry hissed with a sudden fear.

“Quickly Harry, the invisibility cloak!” Violet forced herself to look around the corner just in time to watch Harry pull out an old looking cloak and see the boys vanish underneath it. She didn’t dare move and she struggled to keep her accelerating breaths from escaping her mouth. She couldn’t see the boys, but she could hear their muffled voices and footsteps heading down an opposite corridor. Even after the hallways fell into silence she held her rigged position, and when a couple minutes passed without signs of anyone else, she stepped out from behind the corner. Snatching her wand, she continued towards the Hidden Tower quicker than she had before.

Millions of stars sparkled against the dark sky. Some were confident and glowed bright while others hid shyly in the glory of their neighbors. However, one thing in particular caught her eyes. It was a particularly dark night for the moon did not shine very bright. She could see a faint band of light that stretched from horizon to horizon, like a giant swath of milky haze in the sky. It glowed with such might that it made up for the lacking moon and turned the sky a slight navy blue instead of it’s usual black. Far above the dark silhouettes of Hogwart’s towers, way past the mountains, and even farther than the moon, it stood, like a giant bridge to the heavens. The Milky Way.

Violet sat on the large, stone windowsill at the top of the Hidden Tower. There was no glass to separate her from the cold midnight air, yet she was warm. Her back rested against the side of the window and her legs were bent comfortably against her chest. Her arms were wrapped loosely around her knees and her wand dangled in her right hand.

The witch took comfort in knowing she could look up at the stars, but they couldn’t look back at her. Her eyes wandered along the sky. Maybe somewhere out there, in a different galaxy, in a different universe, or maybe a different dimension was another girl just like her. She found peace when staring at the stars. It made her think, but not about school, or friends, conflicts, war, or family. She felt as if her eyes, and the eyes of almost every one on earth, were closed shut, that they were all asleep and living a shared dream. When starring at the stars she felt as if her eyes began to flutter, they were never able to open more than a squint, but it was just enough for her to begin to see the blurry silhouettes of what the world really is. After all, their earth was just one chapter in a greater story, and she was just one letter buried inside a massive book.

What was there, beyond this universe? They were told space went on forever, so why wouldn’t there be another Violet out there? Who’s to say there isn’t something else out there, or a greater meaning hidden behind billions of stars. As she started to think she felt she couldn’t stop. She knew something was missing in her life and the life of everyone else on earth, wizard or muggle. Maybe it was a concept, or an idea. Perhaps it was a galaxy. But, no matter how much her eyes fluttered they would never open all the way, and the answer always remained concealed in questions.

A shiver ran down Violet’s arms and she lifted her wand and renewed the warming charm. She was suddenly brought back to a closer reality and the issues that lay in front of her. She fiddled with the sleeve of her sweatshirt as she was brought away from her imagination.

“Well,” she said quietly while leaning back against the stone wall of the window, smiling at herself for being so philosophical. She stared up at the moon one last time then stood up and walked away, her silhouette disappearing deep inside the walls of Hogwarts as she wandered back to Gryffindor Tower. Yet, questions still remained in her head, and the more she distanced herself from the peaceful place up in the tower, the more the questions started screaming. _Is Malfoy a Death Eater? Is Snape bad? The Order? What Order? And the Unbreakable Vow! Who took it and why? Was it Malfoy…or-or maybe it was Snape! Is Ginny mad at me? What am I going to tell her?_ So many questions shouted at her, each one ripping at her with sharp claws before moving onto the next one. However, one question was always present. _Do I have feelings for Malfoy?_


	10. One Happy Weasley, One Mad Weasley

Violet awoke the following morning with a growing heat in the pit of her stomach. Today was a big day. Today was Gryffindor’s final quidditch match before the Holidays, which meant that the outcome of this game would determine their placement next term. Potter had given them numerous speeches on the importance of today during the practices leading up to it. Violet was extremely nervous, but at the same time very excited. She was also really hungry, she thought while still tasting the sweets from last night in her mouth. Eager to get down to breakfast, she lifted herself out of bed, instantly feeling the icy air bite at her bare skin. Desperately trying to find the source of the cold, Violet’s attention was brought to the window above Alyssa’s bed. It was ajar letting in small snowflakes that accumulated on the windowsill before melting down the wall in fine streaks. The Gryffindor cursed under her breath while raising her wand to shut the window. Just perfect, it wasn’t like this game was going to be hard enough. They really didn’t need snow.

Violet got dressed quickly, pulling her red and yellow Gryffindor quidditch sweater over her head and slipping on her thickest pair of socks, knowing all too well that the high altitude wind would be unforgiving on her small body.

In the midst of quietly getting ready, the girl noticed that Ginny’s bed was empty, and all at once everything that happened the day before flooded back into Violet’s mind; Malfoy, the kiss, Ginny’s anger, Harry and Ron in the corridors, something about Snape being bad… The girl suppressed a distressed sigh and made her way down to the Great Hall.

When she entered, the hall was buzzing with early morning chatter. Not everyone was present, but nonetheless the room was crowded. She scanned up and down the Gryffindor table spotting a small group of familiar faces huddled together. They were no other than Harry, Ron, Hermione, and of course Ginny. Violet shuttered in her spot understanding straightaway that she was not welcome.

“Pardon me,” a perky voice said behind her. Luna Lovegood pushed past wearing an oversized lion hat. Its large rim slipped over her eyes and she had to continuously push it back up with her pale hand, “Good luck today!” she added before heading towards the group of Gryffindors.

“Thanks,” Violet tried, but the words never left her mouth. With a pout she sat down at an empty spot on the long table. She swirled her metal spoon in her cereal causing the flakes to dance around in the milk. She hated this—being all sad and lonely. _No,_ she thought to herself, _I’m not going to let Malfoy or Ginny or anyone else ruin today for me._ With her new found determination she took a mouthful of her cereal and pulled her coffee mug nearer, feeling the energy rush back into her body. Today was going to be a good game; she knew it.

After a few minutes of sitting alone and eavesdropping on a couple of Ravenclaw second years, who talked at the table over, a figure took a seat across from her. Violet looked up to meet eyes with Alyssa.

“Good morning,” Violet said with a smile.

“I’m so cold,” Alyssa shivered, coughing a little and snaking her hands back up her sleeves, once she had taken a bite of toast.

“You left your window open all night,” Violet rolled her eyes playfully.

“God damn it,” she hissed as she brought the warm tea cup up to her purple lips, but coughed before she could take a sip.

“Where’s Emma?”

“She snapped at me when I tried to wake her.” Alyssa shrugged, “ ‘Claimed she needs her beauty sleep,” she added imitating Emma’s voice. Both girls laughed, but it ended with a coughing fit from Alyssa, “Don’t worry,” she said once she had caught her breath, “I’ll make sure she shows up to the game, I know how important it is to you.”

“Alyssa, you should really go get that cough looked at,” Violet said raising a worried eyebrow.

“Nah, I’m fine. Probably just a cold,” and with that the girls continued their breakfast, talking about whatever came to mind. Throughout all this, Alyssa never mentioned Malfoy or Ginny, she even changed the conversation at one point so as to not risk running into that topic. Violet was grateful for this and in this moment felt very close to Alyssa.

_________________ 

“We have prepared long and hard over the last weeks,” Harry addressed the group of students fully dressed in their red, yellow, and gold quidditch garments, broom sticks held tightly in their hands. The cheering and rumble of voices from outside were audible even within the Gryffindor locker rooms that lay at the bottom of the stadium, under the stands. Wooden cubbies and lockers stood on the sides of the room and the walls were decorated with bright banners that read things like _‘Lets go Gryffindor!’_ , _‘Let us hear that ROAR!’_ , or _‘The king of the wild loses to no one!’_. At the far end of the room were two doors leading to male and female bathrooms, while a third door arched behind Harry and served as a gateway to the quidditch pitch, “That being said, so has Slytherin. We must stay alert and work as a team in order to—”

“Yes, yes Harry,” Jimmy Peakes interrupted.

“We’ve heard this all before,” Ritchie Coote added with a smirk, “We hit the bludgers.”

“They throw the quaffles,” Jimmy nodded towards the three chasers.

“Ron protects our rings.”

“And you catch the snitch,” Jimmy illustrated this by bringing his hand into a fist.

“Get it?” Ritchie asked

“Got it!” Jimmy answered.

“Done,” they both finished together. These comedic responses reminded Violet a lot of Fred and George Weasley, and it brought a cheeky grin to her face.

“Yes, very well,” Harry said running his hand through his hair, “Just stay focused.”

“Don’t worry, Harry. We wont let you down,” Katie Bell said besides Violet. The team turned towards the gateway, the noise of the audience getting louder by the minute, and they waited for the signal to enter the stadium. Ron rocked back and forth on his heels in front of Violet, nervously.

“You got this, Ron,” Harry whispered, “Don’t forget, you have luck on your side today,” he gave the ginger a wink then stepped forward telling the team to enter onto the pit. Violet’s eyebrows came together, confused at what Harry meant, but dismissed it as they walked onto the field, squinting a bit at the sudden change of light. Slytherin too had entered the pit on their own time. The sound of the audience exploded as the students fought for dominance, half chanting “Gryffindor” while the others chanted “Slytherin”. However, it all died down to nothing more than a whimper when Madame Hooch stepped onto the field, raising a small but authorative hand.

Both teams mounted their brooms, and sored upwards, getting into a ready position. Violet glanced across the stands searching for Alyssa and Emma, but the higher she went the less she was able to make out of the spectating witches and wizards. She continued her ascent until they were no more than a sea of red, yellow, blue, and green waves.

It truly was cold up here, she thought to herself, the snow getting heavier by the minute. Violet brought a hand up to her goggles whipping away the fog that had already started to form on the glass surface, before setting it back on the broom, gripping tightly. The girl slowed her breathing, blocking out all distractions and readying herself for the blow of the whistle.

 _Three…Two…One,_ and the tiny whistle echoed through the air, instantly the quaffle flew into the sky, followed closely by two big bludgers, and before anyone could see it, the golden snitch was off. Violet shot forward, ignoring the burning of the cold air on her ears. Katie was the first one to the quaffle, grabbing it swiftly and claiming it as Gryffindor’s. Violet flew parallel to Katie and at a distance of a few meters, preparing to assist her when the time came.

Two of the Slytherin chasers did not hesitate to approach. One was a dark haired girl that Violet did not remember being on the team before, and the other an intimidating boy known as Xavier Jameson. They swooped down dangerously close to Katie, but she threw the quaffle over to Violet before it was too late. With the quaffle now pressed against her chest, Violet sped up dodging the other team’s seeker and making a B-line towards the three large hoops that glistened against the matte sky—the green silhouette of a keeper hovering in front of them like an angry watch dog. The girl looked up to her left, prepared to pass Ginny just like they had practiced so many times before, but when she did, the ginger was not present. With a little shock she slowed down quickly glancing around for someone to pass to, improvising as she flew to the other side of the field. However, she did the mistake of staying in one place for too long. Her breath got knocked out of her as a hard object slammed into her side, causing her to let go of the quaffle. She let out a viscous cough, pain swelling on her side and into her chest, so much so that she couldn’t even hear the loud _Oooh_ ’s from the watching students.

“You okay?” Harry called out, gliding past her, but all she could manage in reply was an uneasy wheeze. _Come on Violet, Concentrate!_ She shook her head and flew back into the action despite her body screaming at her to stop. The girl squinted through the thick snow just in time to see Ron successfully block an incoming quaffle thrown by the third Slytherin chaser, Trisha Bennett. The audience cheered out in relief and Violet could see a smile form on Ron’s lips. Without hesitation, he threw the quaffle over to his younger sister… Where had she been when Violet needed her? Deciding that it wasn’t worth fussing over she turned towards the other team’s hoops once again. And, as the Gryffindors neared, the defense on Slytherin’s part strengthened. Katie shot past her with Xavier hot on her tail.

“Ginny, I’m open!” Violet called out, her voice slightly dry from the December snow. “Ginny!” she called out again, but the Weasley girl took no note of her. The ice on her broom melted only slightly as Violet heated up nervously eyeing Trisha and the other female chaser, who began to corner Ginny. Ginny glanced over at Katie.

“No don’t—” Katie began, but it was too late. Xavier already had the quaffle locked tightly against his side. Shaking away the feeling of annoyance that wanted to seize Violet so badly, the girl chased after Xavier.

The game continued with a flurry of red and green; bludgers whizzed back and forth, the quaffle hopped from player to player, and the two seekers had disappeared into the clouds. Ron did a good job at guarding the rings, but so did the Slytherin keeper. Throughout all this, Violet became aware of a pattern on Ginny’s part. Not once did the ginger throw Violet the quaffle, even going as far as to dangerously send it back towards Ron, and “coincidentally” was never within distance when Violet needed to pass it.

The Gryffindor score got father and farther behind Slytherin’s, not because Ron was doing a bad job, but because the chasers weren’t scoring. Violet was not sure how long the match had been going on, but it had been a while. Her fingers had frozen long before and she could barely notice the constant chattering on her teeth anymore, yet despite this she did her best to keep up and ignored the aching pain from her right side.

Multiple Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw students had return back to the warmth of the castle, content with just hearing the outcome of the game from their housemates instead of witnessing it. The score was 180 to 50, putting Slytherin far in the lead—yet both scores were surprisingly low considering how long they had been playing. Violet let out a sigh of despair watching it form a cloud in front of her nose. Her main objective now was to prevent Slytherin from scoring any more goals, hoping that Harry would catch the snitch and that the extra 150 points would bring them to the lead.

It was then, just as the sun started its final decent over the horizon, and the already freezing air dropped even more, that Harry’s figure busted down from the clouds, pumping his right fist in the air. Being too far away, the delicate snitch was not visible in his hand, but everyone knew it was there. Cheers erupted from the Gryffindors and some others, contrasting with the boos from the Slytherin stands. Violet let out a tiered breath, happy that someone had finally caught the snitch.

 ____________________

She slung off her soaking cape, which was now a deep red instead of its vibrant crimson, thankful that the locker rooms were heated. The girl dabbed a towel along her forehead in hopes to dry the clumps of hair that stuck to her face.

“Good job,” Violet congratulated Ron as he went to his locker, a few away from hers.

“Thanks,” he said grinning and bouncing up and down, “I feel great!”

Violet could not resist but smile at him, it made her happy to see the boy so confident in himself for a change. She slipped off her jersey and set it on top of her cape. She winced slightly as her arm pushed against her right side. Carefully she raised her undershirt up her ribs until it revealed a large purple bruise.

“Bloody hell that looks like it hurts,” Ron said, sucking air through closed teeth and recalling the rough attack that happened early on in the game.

“Honestly, it’s not that bad,” she lied, pocking at it gently while clenching her jaw.

“Either way, you should stop by the infirmary…” his voice trailed off as he looked at someone behind her. Violet turned around, following his gaze and saw Ginny storm in with loud angry steps, a very frustrated Harry close behind her.

“What happened today?” Harry said ripping off his cape, “I mean, there was no team work!”

“There was team work,” she insisted with an annoyed tone, but everyone in the room knew what Harry was referring to.

“I don’t care what you have going on, but this isn’t a individual sport, you put the whole house in jeopardy,” He stepped in front of Ginny, trying to get her to pay attention, “We almost lost because of you,”

“Yeah but we didn’t!” She shouted and Ron jumped, “I’m sorry I’m not this perfect quidditch player, Harry. People make mistakes!”

“Yes, but these weren’t mistakes,” he said his voice becoming very stern, “I put you on this team for a reason, don’t make me regret my decision.”

The girl let out a loud huff and Ritchie took a step a back as a fuming Ginny pushed her way out of the locker rooms without saying a word. Violet heard Ron mutter something along the lines of “Blimey”. There was a long silence and Katie eyed Violet with a confused expression.

“Well anyways,” Harry said once he had cooled down a bit, “Amazing job today, Ron.” Everyone nodded, the room soon filled with chants from the remaining players, “Ron! Ron! Ron!”


	11. The Girl in the Hot Pink Sweater

That afternoon on her way back from the dorms, Violet was stopped by Aurora Sinsitra, the Astronomy teacher and Head of Extra Curricular Activities.

“Miss Ward,” the woman called, her nose buried deep inside a large scroll of parchment. Violet narrowed her eyes with dubiety. What had she done now?

“You have been assigned Nymphadil Lèving,” said Professor Sinistra shortly.

“Pardon me…but I don’t quite understand,” Violet stared blankly at the professor who had yet to look up from her scroll.

“For tutoring of course!” Violet’s jaw dropped, she had completely forgotten about signing up for the program at the start of the year. She felt a feeling of regret creep up her spine, but pushed it away promptly, keeping and optimistic mind.

“You’ll be meeting her at the library tonight, just before super,” and with all the information given, the old witch turned to leave, but then stopped herself, “Oh, and could you inform Ginevra Weasley that she’s been appointed Dennis Creevey.”

“Er…I think it’s best if you tell her, Professor,” Violet muttered, ignoring the narrowed stare Professor Sinistra gave her.

____________________

Upon entering the library, Violet remarked that it was awfully busy considering that it was a Saturday evening. Multiple students sat in both groups and in solitude among the numerous tables. Others strolled up and down the aisle, disappearing and reappearing behind tall bookshelves. Violet scanned the room, realizing she had no idea who Nymphadil Lèving looked like nor what House she was in. She spotted two girls sitting alone on either ends of the room. The first, a Hufflepuff, had curly blond hair and seemed preoccupied with the large book in her hands. With further inspection, Violet concluded that she was too old for tutoring, definitely in her fourth year. Thus, she turned towards the other. The second girl was much more petit. She wore a hot pink sweater, with a dancing elephant sown on the front, which contrasted with her chocolate colored skin. Despite being out of her school uniform and robes, the red and orange Gryffindor tie still hung around her neck. A pair of glasses rested on her button nose, and Violet noted that they were definitely not like any she had ever seen. The two spectacles were shaped like spikey clouds, while a thin line of gold traced the glass edges. She looked up immediately as Violet approached.

“Hi, I’m Vio—”

“I’m Nymphadil Hypotia Lèving,” the young girl declared, one short arm outstretched to its fullest. Slightly taken aback, Violet looked at the girl’s brown penetrating eyes and shook her hand.

“Hypotia? Like the Greek mathematicien?” Violet asked, sitting down across from her. Nymphadil blinked at her for several instances before answering.

“No, like Nymphadil Lèving,”

“Right…” Violet cleared her throat, “So, I’m Violet, and as far as I’m aware I have been assigned as your tutor.”

Nymphadil nodded so vigorously that Violet was afraid she would hurt herself, “Yep! That’s correct; you’re going to help me becoming super smart. That’s what I want be when I’m older, you know. I’m going to be a genius!” The young girl reached under her, and with just a little bit of struggling manage to plop several textbooks onto the table, the top of which bore the title “One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi: Level 1”.

The rest of the session was spent with Violet helping Nymphadil with an essay on what allows Flobberwom mucus to thicken potions.

“You should add a sentence here,” Violet said as she corrected the first draft of the essay. She drew and arrow and spoke out loud as she wrote, “ ‘When boiled, the chemical structure of the Flobberworm mucus decomposes. Thus, the modified substance will effect the potion in—’ ”

“Don’t you mean ‘affect’ instead of ‘effect’,” Nymphadil interrupted, a sagacious twinkle in her eyes.

“Uh…” Violet looked down at the parchment, “Yes, I guess you’re right.”

 _What an…interesting girl…_ Violet smiled to herself, but it wasn’t until later, when she talked with Alyssa about her tutee, that her thought really took true form. Born in Paris from a French witch and a Scottish wizard, Nymphadil was supposed to attend Beauxbaton Academy of Magic, but for a reason unbeknownst to the common knowledge of all others, she turned up to platform 9¾ on September 1st, 1996.


	12. I Promise

As the days went on the more the distance between Violet and Ginny grew. If not talking to each other was not enough, now the two girls had cut off almost all contact, only seeing one another when returning back to the dorm after classes, but still never speaking. The first Monday after the quidditch game, Violet had entered into her History of Magic class only to find that someone entirely different was occupying Ginny’s seat next to Violet’s. Violet raised a questioning eyebrow and Emma had pulled her aside explaining that Ginny asked them to switch seats. _Fine, two can play at that_ game, she thought, sitting down with a heavy feeling weighing in her lower jaw.

Later that same day, Ginny would return to Gryffindor tower only to find that Violet, and the rest of her belongings, had moved to the other side of the room, taking Alyssa’s place by the window.

When one girl entered the room, the other one left. When one girl started a conversation with the group, the group divided. There was no denying the small wounds that appeared in their friendship. Both girls knew it, yet kept feeding the fire.

Violet was finding it especially hard to concentrate on her homework, today. As much as she ignored Ginny in person, the ginger was always on her mind. An hour didn’t go by without, Violet thinking about how angry and annoyed she was with her friend. Friend… could she even call her a friend anymore? She told herself over and over again that she didn’t want to.

She let out a long frustrated breath, rereading the same passage of her textbook for the fourth time, but still not grasping any of it, her eyes running from word to word but never processing the full sentence. No matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t able to see the big picture.

“It was not until the late 1700’s, with the birth of the Salem Witch Trials, that the…” Violet spoke quietly to herself, in hopes that speaking the lesson aloud would help her pay attention, “…that the—a new order started…a new order started to rise in Northern America, The MACUSA.” It was no use; she continued to butcher through the paragraphs.

“Will you be quiet,” Ginny said dryly. Violet tensed and she saw Emma look up and grab her wand “discretely” as if she knew this would end in a duel. It was the first time Ginny had spoken to Violet in over a week, and it took all her energy to suppress the feeling of happiness that so desperately wanted to shoot to the surface, deep within Violet’s body.

“Sorry, I’m studying,” Violet answered, matching Ginny’s tone.

“Well,” her jaws visibly shifted against each other, “Can you go somewhere else?”

“You go somewhere else,” Violet was well aware of how childish she sounded, but she did not care. Ginny looked at her for a moment, her bottom lip curling into a frown, before standing up sharply.

“Yeah maybe it’s best that I’m the one to leave. We don’t want Violet running off with anymore boys, she’ll taint her innocent façade. I mean…it explains the bruises on her knees.” Not waiting to see anyone’s reaction she slipped out the doorway. Violet kept her gaze on the book that lay in front of her, her skin burning with anger and her jaw clenched tight, swallowing a scream of frustration. Although, she could not see her, Violet could feel Emma’s gaze resting on her back.

“She’s just upset, ignore it,” Emma began gently, “It’ll be better—”

“Please, just leave me alone,” Violet breathed, blocking out her friend’s words of comfort, “I want to be alone.” She prepared for Emma to protest, but it never occurred.

The Gryffindor waited for the dorm room door to swing closed before leaping up from her seat with the speed of a wild animal. Lightning shot through her veins as her hungry eyes scanned over Ginny’s side of the room. Her mother always said, “Anger can be our friend if we know its strength and how to aim it,” but that was not the case at the moment. Violet was fuming and everything was at risk.

“What bruises?” she almost shouted, pushing her skirt aside, just to make sure, “There are no bruises! I bet she’s the one with bruises…” Violet stopped, her eyes resting on Ginny’s wand that still laid on her bed and it appeased their hunger. Without another word she snatched it, her fingertips tingly as the blood rushed through them. A loud _snap_ echoed in the room, and Violet stood there exhaling heavily. However, no mater how long she waited, the feeling of relief that she expected never came. She raised the two pieces of magical wood, jagged where they were supposed to meet, into her view, and her breath caught in her throat. _What have I done?_ But it was too late, the feelings of regret could not fix the new rupture in their friendship.

 

When the others returned, Violet was already in bed. Of course, despite what it seemed, she was not asleep, and was aware of everything from Ginny’s worried comments about her missing wand, to the quiet search party amongst the three girls, and the failed “ _Accio_ Ginny’s wand” on Alyssa’s part. Violet felt terrible, the snapping of the wand still ringing in her ears, long after everyone had gone to bed and the quiet of the night swept over Hogwarts.

She awoke the following morning, knowing what she had to do. The issues between her and Ginny needed to be resolved before the winter holidays that were barely a week and a half away. The chances at mending their friendship were slim, but still present.

Violet thought it best to go wait in the Great Hall, not wanting to wake a sleeping Ginny. The Hall was practically empty with the exception of a few students scattered up and down the four massive tables. It was still very early, the winter sun barely grazing the horizon, the snow still matte, and the West side of the sky not much lighter than a dark blue. A few candles remained lit in the corridors making up for the dim sunlight. She did not mind eating in solitude, it gave her time to think, and thinking was very important in a situation like this. When she lifted her arms to grab an apple off one of the display plates, she felt the two thin, but long objects in the pocket of her cloak, making every movement a reminder of the unforgiving actions she had performed the evening before.  

However, as the minutes ticked by, and students came and went, Ginny’s slim figure never appeared in the giant doorway. Violet feared that she might have decided to skip breakfast, today of all days. Maybe it would be best for her to back up to the Gryffindor common room? Yes, that’s what she would do. Without wasting another second, she was off down one of the many corridors. The only sound for her to hide behind was the echoing of her feet against the cold stone floor. Violet raced through the castle, turning corners sharply, before coming to a halt as an unexpected tornado of hair flew into her face.

“Violet!”

They both said at the same time; there was a pause before Violet spoke again, “Look, Ginny I’m so sorry!”

“Don’t apologize! I’m the one that needs to be sorry,” Ginny spoke in rushed sentences, “I was talking with Emma, and what I said to you yesterday, how I’ve been acting lately…the quidditch match! I’m such a terrible person.”

“No, Ginny you don’t understand, I—”

“I do! I know you never planned what happened with Malfoy. I’ve been such a piece of rubbish to you!” she interrupted setting her hands on Violet’s shoulders.

“Ginny…I’m sorry,” Violet whimpered and she couldn’t help but let the tears streak down her face, catching in her mascara as they passed through thick lashes, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—I mean I did, but I regret it all.”

“Violet, what are you talking about,” Ginny whispered.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” Violet repeated between sobs as she reached into her cloak and pulled out Ginny’s wand, if you could call it that, “Please don’t hate me, I’m so sorry.” She starred at the floor, lacking the courage to look up at her friend, but suddenly felt Ginny’s arms wrap around Violet’s body. A warm feeling rushed through her, powerful enough to bridge the gap between them. The bridge wasn’t complete, but it was far enough along that they would be able to rebuild it together.

“We can mend it,” Ginny muttered against Violet’s ear, and she knew the ginger wasn’t just talking about the wand.

Violet’s tears had completely dried by the time the girls pulled away from the hug. Her eyes were still puffy, but full of hope.

“I’m sorry about Malfoy,” Violet said filling the silence, “I know you, Harry, and the rest of them have deep beef with him.”

“He’s a malicious person, Violet,” Ginny said with concern, “He only cares about his own agenda.”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry,” she smiled, “I’m done with him…not that there was anything to begin with.”

“I hope you mean it.”

“I do,” Violet said shaking her head, “I’m not talking to that brat ever again.”

“I’ll be able to forgive everything if you promise.”

“I promise,” Violet said without hesitation.

 

The girls separated down the corridor, both feeling several degrees happier. Violet never realized how much Ginny meant to her, until she almost lost her. Her gaze trailed on the world outside as she passed through a particular hallway that bore grand windows. It almost seemed as if the pale sun had gotten brighter, or perhaps it was just Violet’s fresh mentality now rid of stress. Everything seemed to fall into place, this puzzle of emotions no longer posing a threat.

“Ward!” a familiar voice called from above. Violet’s heart fluttered in her chest, but she told herself it was irritation. She turned just in time to see him hop down the final step of the staircase.

"Ward, I need to apologize about last week,” the boy began.

“Malfoy,” she whispered, “Just go…”

“Ward, I really need to talk to you,” he insisted, slight traces of desperation present at the end of his words, “I know you don’t want anything to do with me, but I don’t know who else to turn to, please.” She looked up. His blond hair was ruffled and his bottom lip was swollen from biting it; it looked like he had been thinking. She opened her mouth as if to say ‘What’, but could not find her voice, “Can we go somewhere private?” he asked.

Violet’s fingers twitched nervously, feeling awfully conflicted. She thought she had resolved the issue, but here it stood right before her.

“I know a place,” she finally answered with a shaky breath.

**_________________**

The shadow of a crow streaked across the pale sky, its black feathers hardly noticeable, hidden beneath a thick layer of snow. The bird was all alone, its friends already long off towards somewhere with less clouds. Its red, beating eyes frantically searched for shelter—for anywhere, anything, that could warm its cold bones. No matter how high the sun got, the stubborn breath of winter would not budge, but just then, when all hope seemed to be lost, the bird noticed a single opening deep within towers of stone. Taking this miracle happily, the crow swooped down, excited to finally get some rest. However, the gift was too good to be true. Upon landing, it realized this shelter was already in use. The creature’s instinct warned strongly that it was not welcome here. With a frustrated chirp, it took back into the air leaving all chances of warmth behind.

“Do you come here often?” Malfoy asked, eyeing the Hidden Tower, but never leaving the corner on which he leaned. Violet did not answer, questioning bringing him to this place, to her safe place. A crow chirped at the window before quickly flying away. Violet envied the creature, if only she could just fly away from this place. She didn’t want to be with Malfoy here and it frustrated her knowing it was she who had brought them to the tower in the first place. Malfoy raised his wand towards the window quietly and casted a shielding charm, blocking out the cold and indicating that he expected them to stay a bit. _Not a chance,_ she thought. The Gryffindor had made a promise to Ginny; however, she wasn’t a mean girl and would listen to what the Slytherin had to say first. No one spoke, and they just stood there, feeling the air around them start to warm up.

“Well?” Violet insisted after several moments.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke and the room fell silent again. The awkwardness of the conversation made Violet cringe, and as the silence sat lower, the more she felt her cheeks burn.

“I know you didn’t just follow me up here to apologize for…” her voice trailed off, “…you know.”

Malfoy looked up at her through his messy blond hair and she diverted her gaze. She mentally noted that his once pristine appearance was starting to deteriorate, despite trying to hide behind well-tailored robes and clean black suits. There was something about his aura that seemed more human, but also something that seemed darker.

“You’re right, although, I am sorry,” he spoke in his usual even manner, Violet wanted to believe his words, but he was making it hard.

“Are you sorry for leaving, or for kissing me?” he didn’t answer and Violet let out a quiet sigh. The conversation was slow and starting to drag; she envied the crow more and more, “Malfoy, if you aren’t going to—”

“Ward! Will you just,” said the boy raising his voice, but grasping a hold of himself before continuing in a calmer tone, “Listen, there’s this—I have to—well, this thing…and I…I need your help.” It obviously took great strength for Malfoy to utter these words, “You’re um…you and the Weasley girl talk, right? Like you’re friends?”

“I’m confused with what you’re asking,” said Violet, bluntly honest.

“You’re somewhat close to Potter?” a growing suspicion tingled in her stomach, but she chose not to act on it yet, “You’re able to know what he’s doing most of the time?”

“Are you seriously asking me to spy on Harry?” her anger slowly rising to the surface.

“No, I’m…” that’s exactly what he was asking, and they both knew it. His lips curled back into a pout. “Foolish of me, I should have never came.” He turned towards the door with his head hanging low.

“Malfoy, wait,” she stopped him, “What the hell is going on? I mean the Room of Requirements, the weird cabinet, and that key!”

“Thanks for holding onto it for me,” he laughed, his back still to her. He was right back to his old sly self.

“God! You’ve treated me like actual shit all year and now you expect me to help you?” all her anger was dangerously splashing at the rim and with an uneven breath she stopped fighting it, letting the rage spool over, “I mean who do you think you are! Everyone knows you have the makings of a dark wizard, and a bastard no less! I mean an unbreakable vow, really?” This caught Malfoy’s attention; he spun around.

“What unbreakable vow?” said the Slytherin, his eyes pulsing.

“Oh please, don’t play dumb!”

“No, Ward, I’m serious. Where did you hear of this?” there was something genuine in his eyes and Violet hated the control it had over her.

“ ‘Over heard Harry and Ron,” she muttered reluctantly, “Something about Snape helping the Malfoys…” Violet heard a faint “fuck” as the boy exhaled and slid down to the ground, head in hands, “Malfoy…?”

“That’s what Snape meant by ‘I promised your mother I’d protect you’,” Malfoy spoke to himself through his hands causing his voice to come out muffled, “This is bad…so bad.”

Violet did not dare sit down next to him, but was too curious to leave. She stood on the other side of the Tower. She internally fought herself, trying to decide whether to speak. _Iney meeny miney mo, catch a tiger by the toe,_ she chanted in her head as her eyes flew from the door to Malfoy, then back at the door and back at Malfoy again, _If he howls let him go, iney meeny miney mo…shit._ To her dismay the little game had ended with her eyes on the blond boy. She swallowed.

“I’m confused,” maybe it wasn’t the best thing to say, but at least it was something.

“Of course you are,” he hissed, “No one understands me. They all just expect me to follow their orders. ‘Oh will you do this, actually you don’t have a choice’ ‘Malfoy you’re going to have take care of this for us’ ‘I know this isn’t what you want, but you’re going to have to waste your 6th year running around Hogwarts for us’. I’ve never gotten to say or do what I want, even my own mother tells me to just blindly follow orders,” his hands still shielded his face, but that did not stop Violet from hearing the tears in his voice. “Ward, there are people out there who would rather see me dead. Do you know what that feels like? No, you don’t. You have a family that loves you, friends that care about you. What do I have? A father that wants me to be something I’m not, a mother who’s too scared to stand up for anything, and then there’s Crab and Goyle…two lunks that can’t tell one end of a broomstick from the other! When I was younger, when I was really lonely, I would go to my father, but all he would do is shout at me, sometimes even beat me. And you know what he told me when I cried ‘Pain is just weakness leaving the body’…my own father… ”

“I had no idea...” her eyes meet his; there was real emotion in the room.

“She—my mother—thinks she’s protecting me, but she’s just made this a whole lot worse. Hogwarts isn’t this safe place anymore. Terrible things are going on, things that no one is aware of. And Dumbledore, well, the poor old man won’t be able to watch over us much longer.” There was a beat before he continued, “I’ve spent so long bottling up my feelings, making sure not to get attached to anyone. Love blinds us.”

“What about Pansy Parkinson,” Violet wasn’t sure how or when it happened, but she was now sitting in front of Malfoy, nothing but a meter separating them.

“Oh please,” he gave a painful laugh, “Like I actually fancy someone like her. Sadly, that’s what’s expected when you’re born into an old family that obsesses over their pride and powerful heirs.” He looked up at her, concern swimming in his eyes, “Dark times are coming, and I don’t know…I don’t know if I can follow through. There’s so much being asked of me—I can’t breathe—I hardly sleep anymore. I’ve never said this out loud, but sometimes I wonder if I should just end it…end this suffering once and for all.”

“Malfoy—”

“That’s not my name.”

“Draco,” she corrected slowly, his name feeling foreign on her lips, “Is there anything I can do?”

He thought for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching just slightly as if he fought back a smile, “Just promise me you won’t let me fall down that dark hole.”

And before she could think twice she spoke, “I promise.” The tower fell silent once again. It wasn’t a painful silence, nor was it a comfortable one; it was merely a silence. Violet’s toes curled inside her shoes. A part of her started to regret everything: asking McGonagall for extra D.A.D.A. classes, sitting next to Draco all those weeks ago, seeing this new side of him, because now she actually started to sympathies with the young Slytherin. No more than an hour ago, she had promised her best friend that she would never speak to the boy again, but now she sat in front of the very person, swearing to help him. Violet had made two greatly important promises, and she knew that there was no way to keep both.

“For leaving,” Draco suddenly said.

She raised a confused eyebrow.

“I’m sorry for leaving.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thanks for reading this far. I really really love this chapter, it's probably my favorite one in this entire work, I hope you enjoyed it too.


	13. Dancing With Flames

The tall pine trees practically sang as the crowds of students excitedly hurried down to Hogsmead Station, because in its gates laid a true beauty. 5972 was not seen often, but when it did make an appearance the air was always full of excitement. It still found a way to glisten despite its red paint coated with a sheer layer of dust and it’s black nose seemingly grayer after facing the many seasons. It still held mighty strength after its hundreds of travels. The name, printed on its body, was not necessary, for everyone knew who it was. Early this morning, the Hogwarts Express had arrived and now it waited patiently to serve its passengers.

“I wish you all could come the entire Holiday!” Ginny pleaded as the four girls locked their final things away in their trunks and merry voices sounded from outside the dorm.

“Aw thanks again for the offer,” Emma said desperately trying to close her trunk, multiple clothes and shoes sticking out of it like an over stuffed sandwich, “But all I want to do is go home and sleep the entire break.”

“I ‘ould ‘ove ‘oo, b-ut,” said Alyssa, her mouth stuffed full with a candy cane she had hunted down in the common room. She took a bite and chewed, the loud crunches audible around the room, when she finished her voice was much more clear, “but my mom found this cute little wizarding town in Belgium. I was telling Emma all about it!”

“Y—yep,” Emma rolled up her sleeves, too focused on closing her stubborn trunk.

“Yeah…I know. You’ve explained before, but Violet and I are going to have so much fun!” Ginny exclaimed, “I just wish you could come the whole Holiday.”

Violet gave her a warm smile, “You know how much Christmas as a family means to my parents.” She then turned to Alyssa, swiping a piece of hair from her face, “I heard Belgium has good chocolates.”

“Amazing chocolates,” she corrected while sending Emma a pitiful glance. The witch whipped out her wand and Emma’s trunk flew shut.

“Oh, thanks Alyssa,” said Emma, her breath strong, “Hey, by the way. Does anyone know how Katie Bell is doing?” The mood sunk lightly as the atmosphere suddenly grew heavy. No more than two weeks ago the poor Gryffindor chaser fell victim to dark magic. A mysterious package had been given to her during the last trip to Hogsmead. This was definitely no ordinary package, thus when Katie’s skin came in contact with the jeweled necklace inside, a foul curse took her body for its own.

“I think she’s still at Saint Mungo’s,” Alyssa remarked in a tone that matched the somber and cloudy skin outside.

“Its all so awful,” Ginny agreed, but that was all that was said about the unfortunate girl, none of them wanting to dwell on the doleful subject any longer.

Once the bags were packed, the coats were on, and Alyssa’s stomach was full of sweets, the quartette proceeded down to the Entrance Courtyard, before assimilating with the crowd of students, chirping with excitement to get home and enjoy the holidays. It only took a moment longer for all to gather and immediately the witches and wizards, now dressed in street clothing, poured down to the grand train station.

 ___________________

Violet’s head rested against the window. She could feel the icy coolness of the glass against her warm skin as she watched the scenery fly past in a blur. The other girls in the train car talked loudly, but their laughs were muffled to Violet, her thoughts much louder. She kept thinking about her encounter a few days earlier. The image of Draco kept floating back into her mind. The way he had looked into her eyes, the way he had spoken to her…every time she thought about it, she felt a burst of butterflies in her stomach and she had to fight back the urge to smile. Yet, at the same time she couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and ashamed. Perhaps it was the impression everyone had of Draco, and she knew she would be judged. Or maybe it was because of the promise she had made with Ginny. The clashing of two emotions in her caused her cheeks to blush, and she became increasingly grateful of the chilly window next to her.

“You okay?” Ginny asked from across the car, obviously seeing the discomfort she was trying so hard to hide.

“God Vi, you’re all red,” Alyssa said in her turn.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just a little thirsty, I kinda need to go to the bathroom too,” Violet stood up.

“I’ll come with you,” Ginny suggested, seeming still worried about her friend.

The door slid open with ease and the two girls headed down the narrow hallway towards the ladies’ room. When the door had safely closed behind them, Ginny turned to Violet.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I said I’m fine.”

“Violet…do you seriously think I believe that?” She said sternly, “I’m your best friend.”

“It’s nothing,” Violet reassured her, “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“When we get to the Burrow, and it’s just the two of us, we should talk about it.” Ginny, truly was worried about her friend and Violet appreciated it a lot, yet at the same time she just wished she could be left alone.

“Yeah,” _Maybe…_ Violet added silently, then turned to the door.

“Didn’t you have to pee?” Ginny stopped her.

“Oh...I…” Violet stuttered.

"I knew it! I knew you didn’t actually need to go!” Ginny laughed as they left the bathrooms and Violet couldn’t help but join in.

“Honestly Violet, I know you so well,” The pair spoke as they headed back down the narrow hallway.

“Hey, I know you pretty well too!” She laughed.

“Okay, well there is no need to hide things from me, ‘cause I’ll figure it out anyways. We know all of each other’s secrets. Talk to me whenever…” Ginny’s voice slowed down suddenly as another student appeared and Violet had to peer around Ginny to see who it was. Ginny eyed _Draco_ as they approached him.

He gave them a simple nod. Ginny’s lips curled back into a sneer and she passed him quickly. Violet followed, but not without making contact with Draco’s cloudy gray eyes, first. They held the gaze for a few seconds, before Draco broke it, his shoulder brushing softly against the girl’s as he passed, sending a slight shiver down Violet’s spine.

 ________________

The afternoon sun was now making its slow decent, leaving way for the many stars that would soon arrive. Mrs. Weasley was there to pick them up, when they had arrived at the station. Together, Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Violet squeezed into a small fireplace, using the power of floo powder to complete the final stretch of the journey to the Burrow. The first few days went by in a blink of an eye. All the stress from school and tension from the building wizarding war was replaced with merry feelings and cheer.

“What the bloody Hell is a Star Wars,” Ron exclaimed one night as the group, along with Fred and George, were playing an intense game of muggle charades. Harry and Violet snickered as they exchanged looks, but Hermione seemed exceptionally amused by the confused and perplexed expressions, which formed on the Weasley siblings’ faces. She could tell Hermione was still annoyed with Ron for spending so much time with Lavender Brown, but Violet shook it away, smiling to herself. It was nice spending time with Ginny and her family. She truly felt integrated in this so-called ‘Potter group’, something that had completely changed since the beginning of the year. She often found herself engaging in conversations with the members of _The Golden Trio_ , grateful to finally get out of the “Yeah I guess the weather is nice. So how’s school?” friend-zone. Surprisingly, she had gotten awfully close to Harry. Both of them enjoyed waking up early, while the house still remained stir less, finding dawn the best time to gather their thoughts. The first morning, they awkwardly ate breakfast together in silence, until Harry broke the ice.

“You’re doing really well in Quidditch this term.” He complimented.

“Really? Thanks! I still need to work on speed control, though,”

“I can help you sometime, if you want.” He offered and she gave him a warm smile, “But not today. I have to finish this annoying four-paged essay for Professor Bins.”

“Oh god, he gives so much work,” Violet signed in agreement, “I once had to write a five paged document analysis on the evolution of the position of the Ministry of Magic on magical beasts in domestic life, in just two days! I don’t think I slept all night.”

“Wait…was it the one talking about garden gnomes, magic bats, and fire eagles? Because he gave us that exact project last year.” Harry exclaimed.

“Haha yes!” The two erupted into laughter.

 

“Okay, it’s your turn. Rose.” George said, snapping her back to the present. He and Fred made it a point to pretend they couldn’t remember Violet’s name, calling her a whole variety of other flowers such as Tulip, Dahlia, Daisy, and Lilac. She grinned and using her wand, Violet drew a paper from the old hat that sat in the middle of the coffee table. In fine print, which definitely could only belong to Hermione, were the words: The Breakfast Club _._

“Oh, this is a good one. Okay two words…First word.” She began as she brought her hand to her mouth in a cereal eating motion. The night went on, with the living room full of gleeful voices and the delicious scent of Mrs. Weasley’s cooking. Yet, Violet couldn’t help but notice that Harry wasn’t his usual self. He almost seemed cold towards Violet, and the witch felt as if he was avoiding her. While they ate supper, Harry never addressed Violet. In fact, the only interaction they had during the meal was when the pair had locked eyes in one stern stare. The gaze made her throat run dry and his eyes insinuated that he would talk to her later.

“Wait up,” Harry said, grabbing her upper arm while the rest of the people disappeared into the kitchen to clean up.

“Is something wrong?” Violet asked in a small voice.

“I want you to know I’ve started to trust you more. I think—I know you’re a good person.”

“And?”

“And…I just don’t want you getting mixed up with the wrong people.” He cleared his throat.

“What do you mean?” She wished he wouldn’t be so unclear in his responses.

“This came in this morning. The owl brought it to me room instead of yours.” Harry said, pulling his hand out of his sweatshirt pocket, revealing a letter. Violet grabbed it from his hands before he even offered it back to her. Instantly she recognized the name of the sender. It was a letter from Draco.

“Please don’t tell Ginny,” the words flew out of the girl’s mouth.

“Violet…what’s going on?” the glasses emphasizing the worry in his eyes, “You can’t be talking to this bastard. It isn’t safe to talk to him. It isn’t safe for him to be sending owls to this location. It puts Ginny, Ron and everyone else in danger!”

“Harry, you don’t understand, Draco—”

“Draco!? You mean Malfoy? Yeah Violet I guess I don’t understand, but what I know for sure is that you’re putting this entire household in danger. I swear if I catch anymore letters between you and that rat…” Harry’s words became heated and Violet’s words turned into a slur of breaths.

“Ohh, don’t let Ginny see you two like this!” Fred teased as he entered the room, “She’ll get jealous.”

“Will you shut up!” Violet exhaled as she pushed her way upstairs to her room, “And she dating Dean anyways.” Once the door had closed, she through the letter into her trunk and crawled onto the bed, calming herself down.

About half an hour later, Violet heard the door slide open.

“Violet, what’s wrong?” Ginny asked gently.

“How about you ask the Chosen One, instead.” Violet’s voice showed obvious signs of irritation.

“Come on…” she insisted, but there was no reply.

“Violet, please talk to me.” The ginger was sincere in her tone, “I miss you…a lot. We don’t talk anymore and there’s always something bothering you. It hurts me to see you like this.” Violet shifted her head against the silky pillowcase, feeling the weight of the bed dip as Ginny took a seat.

“You’re a really great friend, you know that.” Violet said, turning to face Ginny.

“Well, I try.” She giggled. Silence filled the room before Ginny spoke again, “I know you don’t want to talk about it now, but if you ever do, I’m here for you.”

“Thanks Gin. I love you.” Violet offered a grateful smile, “It really means a lot that you—”

A loud crashing sound and the bellowing voice of Arthur Weasley from downstairs interrupted her mid sentence.

“Everyone out of the house now!” He yelled and instantly the two girls stood up from the bed and flew down the wooden stairs.

“What’s going on?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“Death Eaters!” Hermione’s exclamation was met by another crashing noise, which, this time, shook the house. In frenzy, everyone evacuated just in time to see multiple black, smoky forms circle the house in the sky.

“I killed Sirius Black. Hehehe…try and catch me!” Taunted a woman wearing a ripped back dress and with hair that was even darker. The man besides the former sent multiple jolts of red trapping the group in a fence of fire.

“BELLATRIX!” Harry shook with rage, clearing an opening in the flames before he chased after her into the wheat fields.

“Harry!” Ginny exclaimed, leaping after him.

“Ginny no!” this time it was Mr. Weasley who spoke, but it was too late. The opening had closed and the flames were already much too high and out of control for him to make another one. The yard was sent into a show of colors as they worked together to fight the flames. Yet, despite all the water that came from their wand tips, the flames did not budge. Violet felt her heart sink into her stomach, watching the dark figures fly into the wheat field in the direction Harry and Ginny had gone.

Thankfully, with the Death Eaters now gone, the group was able to appease enough of the flames for them to get through the hot wall. Arthur Weasley, along with the twins, and Ron raced into the field to aid Harry and Ginny. Violet stayed back with Molly Weasley and Hermione to clear the rest of the fire from the garden. The girl breathed quickly and her heartbeat rang loudly in her ears. She didn’t relax until she saw the familiar site of five sharp, ginger heads and one night, black one, emerge from the tall wheat. _Thank God!_

Violet turned around to look at the house for the first time. Immediately her relaxation turned into despair as she watched the final flames dancing in the windows of the Weasley home.

“Oh no…”


	14. Old Habits Die Hard

Violet sat at her old wooden desk. It was just about sunset and the room was lit by a warm orange glow. The young witch had returned to her home that morning. She would spend the rest of her Holidays with her family in their urban London house, eating her favorite, childhood foods, and listening to an endless flow of dad-jokes.

Violet ran her fingers in zigzags along her desk; in front of her lay a white, ceiled envelope. She studied it for a few more seconds before deciding to open it. She read slowly, mouthing the words subtly.

 

_**Dear Violet,** _

_**Things aren’t going great here, at home. I don’t know many details, but “guests” keep showing up at our house. My father keeps whispering to them privately, and it’s NEVER good when he whispers. Something bad is going to happen, they’re planning something. However, I do know one thing for sure. I don’t have much time to explain, if anyone catches me writing this, I’ll put myself in danger. Please Violet, this is a warning. You have to get out of the Weasley house before nightfall! If you can, take Potter and the others with you, but don’t tell them I said anything. Stay safe,** _

_**DM** _

_**P.S. burn this letter after reading it** _

 

Violet sat there, her lips parted in shock. _He knew?_ Draco had known about the attack. _He wanted to warn me!_ She felt a rush of hot annoyance pour through her body causing her fingers to clench. If the stupid owl had brought the letter to the right person, if Harry hadn’t been so uptight about Violet receiving a letter from Draco, this all could have been avoided. They could have prepared; they would have gotten away. _Why is Harry like this? Draco’s a good person! He was warning us. Harry thinks he’s a hero. Why does he think he’s the only one that can save the world? He put us all in danger!_ Question after question flew through her head. _And what does “They’re planning something” mean? What’s going to happen to us?_ She reread the letter over and over again, hoping each time that she would be able to understand, that she would realize she missed information. But it seemed that every time she studied the letter, the more she became lost.

Even once the sun had disappeared behind the city landscape, and she was plunged into darkness, Violet sat at her old wooden desk, unable to rest her mind. The girl had to fight back the urge to take a pen and start writing back to the blond Slytherin, knowing full well it was too risky for him to be receiving letters at Malfoy Manner from her.

“Hey honey bun,” a voice suddenly broke through the room as the door creaked upon. In a jolt of her hands, Violet pulled the letter into her lap and out of sight. But she wasn’t quick enough. With a raised eyebrow her mother stepped into the room. “What do you have there?”

“Ah, nothing.” Violet said waving the envelope and doing her best to dismiss it, “Just a letter.”

“From who?” her mother added in intrigue, taking a seat on the bed.

“A friend. Honestly mum it’s not a big deal, he’s just telling me how his holidays are going.”

“He? Is he attractive?”

Violet paused. “Mum, I’m serious. It’s nothing; we’re just friends.”

“Well if you say so,” her mother gave a quick wink, “Dinner will be ready soon. So come down stairs.”

The young witch waited for the woman to leave then let out a long sigh. “God damn it, Violet.” She muttered and tossed the now crumpled letter across the room before exiting.

_________________ 

She lied awake, gaze fixed on the pale ceiling, which now shown with a slight blue glow. The comforter burned against her skin, but the cold air in the room wasn’t anymore forgiving. Unable to sleep, her mind ran. It seemed no matter what, her thoughts kept leading her back to a certain blond Slytherin. It was impossible to shake him from her head.

Did she actually like him? She definitely felt something, but was she perhaps just falling for the idea of liking a guy, rather than the guy himself.

 _Is it even worth it? I mean would it even be possible for us to be together? We’re supposed to hate one another, and we’ve scarcely even talked, anyways._ Although Violet’s thoughts were silent to the rest of the world, they rang like alarms within her. The idea of her being a Gryffindor and him being a Slytherin excited the young girl, and she hated herself for it.

Over and over Violet went through their kiss. Countlessly replaying that electric feeling. It had been a short feeling, but it had definitely been there. Wrestling with this new heat that grew within her, the girl punched her pillow into a more comfortable shape, trying to get herself to sleep.

Violet awoke the next morning with a tugging want to return to Hogwarts, but until then, it was back to big breakfasts, cliché movies, and late evenings with her parents.

 

But just as quickly as pudding cups came and went from her father’s hands, Christmas break had come to an end. Violet’s return to Hogwarts was accompanied by the endless stories of each individual’s holiday, as well as a massive welcome back feast. It seemed that news about the attack at the Weasley’s Burrow had already spread quickly amongst the students.

“Oh gosh!” exclaimed Emma as Ginny and Violet reluctantly retold the events of that night for the hundredth time.

“That’s so unexpected, though,” Alyssa said perplexedly, “They showed up, just like _that_.” She added snapping her fingers in a swift movement to emphasize the word “that”.

“The thing is, these days Mum and Dad always have protection and concealment spells up around the house; so I’m not sure how they found the Burrow, in the first place, and then got passed unnoticed,” Ginny explained taking a sip of the melted ice cubes in her glass, “Charlie reckons someone followed Dad home from the Ministry.”

Violet, who had remained awfully quite throughout the discussion, slowly stirred her soup with a limp hand. She debated back and forth on whether to tell them about Draco’s letter, but then strongly decided against it knowing that all it would do is _wrongfully_ incriminate him.

“Isn’t that right Violet?” Ginny nudged the other witch with her elbow.

“Yeah…I mean, sorry, what were you saying,” Violet’s cheeks grew hot with embarrassment.

“I was only telling the girls about how Ron and Hermione seemed friendly enough during Christmas.”

“Oh, yeah,” the mood seemingly lightening a bit, “Hopefully their silly feud comes to an end soon.”

“But can you blame the girl?” Emma laughed, referring to Hermione, “That Lavender Brown could drive anyone mad.”

Around the end of the meal, a relentless hand came to tap on Violet’s shoulder. She spotted the deformed reflection of a big, yellow bow in one of the now empty tin bowls at the center of the table. Twisting around herself, she found Nymphadil standing only millimeters from her.

“Most magnificent of evenings Violet Ward, Ginny Weasley, Alyssa Sings, and Emma Elmsworth,” the first year said in one breath, “Violet, I have come to bring you a belayed Christmas gift to show my thanks for your help on my journey to becoming the most superior of geniuses.” She thrust a very poorly wrapped present into Violet hands and before the older witch could utter anything more than “Thank you” Nymphadil had retreated back to a group of first year girls at the end of the Gryffindor table.

“Aw! She’s absolutely darling,” Emma exclaimed. All eyes turned towards Violet as she tore open the present. And out of the wrapping came a small comic book.

“ ‘The Intergalactic Adventures of Wilbert the Wallaby: Volume Two’ ” Alyssa read the title out loud, not even bothering to suppress a snort of laughter.

The four girls chatted off into the evening, allowing Violet to relax a bit, the eve of the next term.

 _______________

“Come on Vi…it’s time to wakeup!”

Someone pushed her and she let out a long moan, “Urg, five more minutes.”

“Not unless you want to miss breakfast,” Alyssa giggled, “Come on Vi.”

“ _Fine…”_

At only a little passed dawn, Gryffindor tower was already buzzing with activity, as students got ready for their starting classes.

Stomach full with yogurt and toast, the witch headed directly to her advanced D.A.D.A. class. She couldn’t help but feel a bit excited, for this would be her first time talking with Draco since that night at the Hidden Tower.

“Hi,” she said as she took a seat at her desk.

“Violet,” Draco smiled. She realized suddenly that this was the first time that Draco had called her by her first time. She hesitated, wanting to ask about his Holidays, but she already knew what the answer would be, and a populated classroom was not the place to discuss it. Draco, however, opened his mouth to say something, but never got the chance to start.

“Class,” Professor Snape’s voice cut through the air, “Silence… Now, since it’s a new term,” he paused, “there will be a rotation in desk mates.” Violet’s heart hiccupped, she had forgotten about the rotation. Ironically, it was this very rotation she had once yearned for. The room was filled with a mixture of grateful sighs and annoyed huffs “Of course, seeing that there was quite a bit of chatter these past months,” Snape proceeded while eyeing Seamus Finnegan very clearly, “I have taken the…pleasure…of assigning the seats myself.” He waved his long wand and a puff of dark smoke appeared before each student. “You will find your new desk number in front of you. Move to your new spots quickly, and quietly.”

Violet squinted as the smoke shaped into a cloudy “5”. With a low breath she grabbed her book bag and quills.

“Bloody hell! Really? Malfoy?” Ron hissed loudy and the witch spun around. The two boys sneered at each other by the same desk on the far left of the room.

“I said quietly, Mr. Weasley.” Snape interjected sharply. Violet turned back to table 5, only to see that Harry was already sitting there.

“Hey new desk mate,” she said softly when approaching, not sure if Harry was still upset with her.

“Oh Violet,” the wizard’s voiced brightly. She took her seat next to him, both of them feeling relieved that they had gotten each other and not some Slytherin lunk like Goyle.

Prior to grabbing some parchment out of her book bag, Violet took one last glance over towards a very annoyed Draco who sat next to an equally annoyed looking Ron. When she diverted her attention back to class she noticed that Harry, too, had been watching the blond boy.

“Still sneaking around after Malfoy, are you?” Violet asked quietly as Snape started to scribble on the black board, making sure to refer to him as Malfoy and not as Draco.

“I guess you could say that,” Harry whispered back, his eyes focused on what he was jotting down on his parchment, “But I’m not having any luck. I haven’t found him in the Room of Requirements again. You?” She didn’t answer and merely shrugged.

“Well, old habits die hard,” he said in a low chuckle and Violet couldn’t agree more. There was a pause and then Harry spoke again, “I meant what I said back at the Burrow.”

Violet raised a questioning eyebrow.

“About trusting you more.” He clarified

“Really?” Violet exclaimed.

“Miss Ward,” Snape looked up, “it’s my understanding that this exercise does not require talking.”

The duo didn’t speak after that, the threat of Snape taking away house points remained very present as he passed up and down the aisle like a dark shadow. The class dragged on for a little while longer, thought the end proved quite amusing. Snape moved all the desks and chairs to the extremities of the room with the simple flick of his wand. They stood with their pairs as strings of light shot from wand tips before disappearing with the contact of the second partner’s absorption spell, or in the case of the less talented students, their face. In attempt to block herself from Harry’s strong offensive, Violet took a step back, her body unexpectedly slamming into someone.

“Hey, watch it!” growled the rupture in space known as Crab. She let out a gag, a vile stench scratching at her nostrils. She definitely recognized the scent, concluding that it was from a potion. However, she couldn’t seem to remember which potion it was. Something else began to creep into her thought; as far as she knew, Crab had marked far bellow average in his Potions O.W.L, thus, in no way securing a spot in that N.E.W.T level course, so why on earth did he smell of potions?


	15. The Tale of Glee and Guilt

“Violet.” Ron’s voice cut in sharply, causing Violet to jump. She turned to see the ginger leaning against the wall, his arms crossed tightly around his chest. His stance wasn’t particularly intimidating, but she could detect to obvious irritation in his aura.

“What are you still doing in here?” Violet questioned while pulling the elastic from her dark brunet hair.

 

It all started that one-day when Violet noticed that Harry had a tendency to mutter to himself, a sort of nervous tick.

 

“What was that?” she asked while writing down the final answer on her parchment and turning to the next page to start the work on a lesson entitled The Effects of the Imperius Curse and How to Resist Them.

“Hm?” Harry looked up from his own textbook.

“You said something. I didn’t quite catch it.”

“Oh, no, I was only thinking out loud.” With a shrug Harry turned back to his work and Violet followed suit, dismissing it with great ease. Several minutes passed as the class continued their work. Violet’s eyebrows came together as she intently studied explanatory drawings, which rather horrendously depicted a man fighting against the Imperius curse. She grabbed her white quill and began to fill her parchment: _“Although not made unforgivable until 1717, the Imperius Curse is one of the most powerful and sinister spells known to wizardkind. It was created in the Middle Ages and used by dark witches and wizards for the coercion and brainwashi—_

“Malfoy’s gotta be a Death Eater…” Harry mumbled under his breath. Violet dotted her “i” so ferociously it punctured her parchment. They both looked up at each other; Harry realized he had spoken out loud. He sighed while ruffling his black hair, “Violet, you probably won’t believe me, but I have this theory.” He spent the last few minutes of class, to the unawareness of the rest of the students and even Snape, discussing with Violet in hushed voices. She wasn’t exactly sure why Harry was telling her all this and she didn’t think Harry was sure himself, but she listened to every word of it. Harry was right, though, she didn’t believe him. I mean, how could Draco be a Death Eater? However, she couldn’t deny that there was definitely something up with the Slytherin.

Following that, Harry frequently confided in the girl. This being said, so did Violet. She too had her own questions and suspicions, and after all, Harry had been present that night when Violet had found Draco in the Room of Requirements.

“Hey Violet, wait up,” Harry called as Violet and Emma were leaving the Great Hall, one Saturday morning. “Can I talk to you…alone?” he shifted awkwardly, shooting Emma a smile. The second girl pursed her lips, simultaneously giving Harry one long look up and down

“I’ll be in the common room,” Emma finally said, turning away.

Harry waited till Emma was out of earshot and then pulled Violet aside. “So I haven’t even told Ginny this yet,” he started off slowly, “and I doubt Ron and Hermione think it’s a good idea for me to be talking about this.” He glanced over his shoulder before continuing, “But, by any chance, do you know what a _Horcrux_ is?”

“A what?” she stuttered.

“A _Horcrux._ Yeah, I didn’t think you would, but it was worth a shot,” he adjusted his glasses.

“Why do you ask?”

Harry paused for a moment, visibly deciding how much to tell her, “Er, just something Dumbledore mentioned.”

“Maybe you could check the library?” Violet suggested in a lowered tone as a group of Hufflepuffs walked pass.

“Hermione’s already done that,” he rubbed his chin, “The restricted section too.”

She let out a long sigh, “I’m sorry Harry, I really don’t know. But, I can ask around.”

“No, it’s best you don’t mention it to anyone. One more thing, Violet.” He added, “I have this theory. Much earlier in the year, the morning of the first Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match, I walked by the boy’s prefect bathroom, and I heard Malfoy talking to someone. It was along the lines of receiving something that was very important to him. I forget what it was a…little silver…token, maybe? I don’t remember, but going on, I’m pretty sure it was Snape he was talking with.”

“The morning of the very first Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match?” she asked for clarification, and he nodded, “No, Harry, I was in detention that morning with Snape. It couldn’t be him.”

“Oh…thanks anyway,” and with that he was off. She stood there for a moment searching her memory for anything that sounded remotely similar to a _Horcrux_ , but there was absolutely nothing. She felt the irritation prickle her fingertips. On top of that, very much present within her, was this bizarre need to help Harry. Perhaps it was because he had mentioned Dumbledore, or because this particular _thing_ that Harry asked about was so rare that not even the restricted section of the library held the answers, or maybe it was just because she had grown fond of him over the last few weeks. She paused on that thought for just a moment longer; it was true, the trust that Harry had so bluntly expressed towards Violet had meant a great deal to her. Biting her lip, she settled on heading to the Owlery after a quick stop at the library. She understood that it wasn’t in Harry’s ideals for talk of the _Horcrux_ to go farther than their private conversation, but she hoped for the slight chance that sending a vague letter to her father would bring some answers.

It was a particularly sunny day, but the February air was still frigid and a thin layer of fresh snow from the night before clung to the ground. Violet wasn’t wearing a coat, but her thickly woven Gryffindor sweater was just enough to keep her warm on the brisk walk to the singular stone tower.

Due to the time of day, Violet found the Owlery empty upon her arrival. She cursed to herself, skidding across the snow and ice covered floor, letter in her hand. The circular room was full of hooting owls, which flocked to the perches in the wall. There was a strong scent of hay and the girl could make out the regurgitated skeletons of small rodents in random piles in the corners. She took a second to look around and find one of the Hogwarts-provided owls, proceeding to call it over. Her whole body shivered as a gust of wind blew through the open windows carrying some snow with it; there was no glass on the windows in the Owlery as to let the birds fly in and out at will, and this caused the tower to become quite breezy during the winter months. Violet shook her head, annoyed with herself for assuming a simple sweater would be enough to keep her warm. Hastily, she reached a shaking hand into her pant pocket and took out a bulky red string. The cold had definitely gotten to the witch by now, her fingers unable to stay still while she conducted multiple failed attempts to tie the rope around the foot of the soot colored owl and her letter. She sucked in a sharp breath of air, crossed with her own inefficiency.

“Need help?” a voice came from the entrance. She hadn’t even had the chance to move and, the rope had already tied itself around the owl’s foot, taking the letter with it.

Her gaze landed on Draco, his wand raised high. The Slytherin’s pale skin was hidden under a large, brown leather jacket and a ceiled envelope rested in his left hand.

“You know, you should learn to use your wand more often,” and before he had finished the phrase, an old owl was already off with his letter. “It’s way more convenient.”

“How are you?” she began slowly, thinking back to the last time they had actually spoken. It had been too long.

“Fine.”

“Is that the honest answer?”

He turned to face her, them both knowing all too well that “fine” was far from the truth. He gave her a solemn look, a sort of non-verbal explanation and she nodded.

“It’s a shame the whether is so cold.” He said after a moment. Small talk.

“What? You don’t like the snow?” Violet said in a playful tone and saw Draco scrunch his nose, “Not even as a kid?”

“Snow isn’t much fun when you don’t have anyone to play in it with you, _even_ as a kid.” He pulled his jacket tighter around his body.

“You’re an only child too?” blurted out Violet, feeling a sudden connection with the boy. After living with Ginny, Alyssa, and Emma, who each had a number of brothers and sisters, it was refreshing to talk to yet someone else who also understood growing up without siblings.

“Well, unless you know of another young Malfoy running around, I’m the only one.” This comment made Violet laugh, which in its turn parted Draco’s lips into a wide smile. It was a beautiful smile, Violet caught herself thinking; the way his blushing cheeks pushed his eyes into long slits and how his head fell to one side, exposing his sharp jawline.

“Yeah, thank God,” the Gryffindor teased, only half jokingly, “I mean, could you imagine if—” Something cold and soggy hit her in the face. A shallow cough escaped her mouth and her hands quickly flew to her eyes to wipe away the apparent snow. “…Did you just?” And without another warning the Owlery erupted with snowballs. The small tower had transformed into a legitimate warzone. Taking Draco’s words of advice from before—though she doubted that the wizard would have wanted them applied in this moment—Violet grabbed her wand, muttered a quiet “ _Wingardium Leviosa_ ”, then sent half a dozen hurling snowballs in the boy’s direction. At the sound of a soft grunt, Violets heart rate sped up, anticipating the coming reciprocate. Seeing as the room was circular with no furniture, there was very little place to hide, but she casted a shieling charm just in time to protect herself from an incoming cascade of snow. Several owls took flight, seeking shelter in higher and safer parts of the tower. Violet threw another snowball. She dodged to the right. She threw another snowball. She dodged to the left. Draco slipped. Violet slipped. He got up. She casted another handful of shielding charms. Next thing she knew, her back was pressed against the far wall of the Owlery, Draco’s body inches in front of her, his hands pressed firmly against the cold stone on either side of her head. They both let out several pants, recovering from the battle.

“Give up yet?” Draco asked, although it sounded nothing like a question. The hooting from nearby owls suddenly became very distant, replaced by the pulse of her quickening heart. Buried within his chilly gray-blue eyes she saw something glow. He slowly leaned forward, and when Violet showed no signs of protest, he kissed her. A wave of warmth radiated from her lips to her core, her lungs swelling with a violent rush of fire. She felt all her worries melt away, and just for a moment, she felt completely safe. Her arms went to wrap around his neck, deepening the kiss. A sensation of utter bliss flooded her veins at the feeling of his hair softly brushing against her forehead and his teeth gently grazing her bottom lip.

All of the sudden, a noise sucked all the air out of the room. Violet and Draco broke away from each other instantly, fleeting to opposite ends of the Owlery. Violet leaned out the nearest window, acting as though she had just sent off one of the birds. She didn’t dare turn around. Heavy boots against stone steps grew louder and louder until the person was standing right in the doorway.

“Oh…” was all the person said, but Violet didn’t need to look around to know it was no other than Ron Weasley.

“Hey Ron,” she said as casually as possible and brought a hand to her forehead, shielding the sun from her eyes as she pretended to looked for the owl she hadn’t actually sent, “Well, I should be off.”

The ginger’s eyes darted from Draco, who was all the sudden preoccupied with a knot of mail thread he had taken from his pocket, to Violet, then back to Draco. Violet wasn’t sure if he was all that convinced, a growing air of suspicion spreading across his face, but when he didn’t challenge them, she felt her breath relax a bit.

“I’ll see you at quidditch practice,” the Gryffindor boy added, watching the girl leave down the icy steps.

 

Even as Violet pulled the red and gold Gryffindor jersey over her head and slipped on her brown fingerless gloves, her mind was consumed with Draco Malfoy. She was still processing what had occurred only earlier, occasionally questioning whether it had actually happened. But it did. It was very much real. Her insides fluttered at the thought of it. In the spur of the moment, her mind took her back to that one solitary night up in the Hidden Tower. She remembered the tugging sensation of complete loneliness and the hollow feeling that she was missing something. And Draco was the answer to that feeling. Naturally, Violet tried to empathize with her past self, but the feeling felt absolutely foreign and too insignificant. The distant stars that had once teased her now meant nothing more than balls of hydrogen and helium that they really were.

“Okay listen up everyone,” Harry spoke to the group of quidditch players. The team stood in a clump at the center of the quidditch pitch, some leaning against their brooms for support as Harry gave his usual pre-practice speech. “Seeing as Katie is still recovering at Saint Mungo’s, I’ve asked Dean to fill in for her.” Dean Thomas raised his hand and the team nodded in acknowledgment. “Ginny, Violet, I trust that you two show Dean all the patterns and plays we’ve worked out,” Harry added.

“Will do,” Ginny said from besides Violet, flashing Dean a warm smile, and Violet could swear she almost saw Harry flinch.

“So,” The captain cleared his throat, “We’ll start today off with a simple offensive five point diamond formation and then work our way from there.”

With that, the players took to the air, practicing their various forms and strategies with Ron in front of the hoop goals, he too going over his own drills. When Harry would go to give Jimmy and Ritchie some pointers, Violet and Ginny would swoop over towards Dean, briefing him on the next patterns and offering some tips.

In all, it was a successful practice, and although they would still need some more training before the upcoming match against Hufflepuff, they felt quite confident.

“You coming?” Ginny called to Violet as the students landed in the well-trimmed, grassy field.

“Actually, I think I’m going to stay a bit. I still feel rusty with the floor catch-dive.” Violet answered, still a couple meters off the ground.

“Okay, that’s fine,” her friend replied, “I’ll see you later.”

The team was off the field in a matter of seconds, all very much eager to get cleaned up before supper. Harry had offered to remain with her, but she reassured him that she would be able to mange alone.

Minutes had gone by, but the chaser hadn’t seemed to make any progress. Taking a long inhale, she leaned her weight ahead. And with one strong kick of her feet against the metal stirrups, her broom dove forward, perpendicular to the earth. The friction of the chilly air pushed her hair back, and her rippling cape tailed her. Violet gripped the end of her broomstick, feeling the uneasy prickle of her nerves within her stomach. _Almost there…so close. Just a little longer._ Still meters from the ground, she yanked her broom back up. Fear got the best of her once again.

“Damn it!” she swore in frustration. No mater how hard she tried, she was never able to complete the finally steps of the move. The floor catch-dive was used in the circumstances when the quaffle was dropped or thrown to the floor. It consisted of a high-speed nosedive for the quaffle during which the chaser pulls back up only a foot or two from the ground. Violet, however, could never make it closer than half a dozen meters. With a huff of defeat, she sailed softly to the bottom of the pitch. That was enough for today. All she could think about was getting out of this sweaty jersey and into a warm sweatshirt.

There was a creak of the ample wooden door, and Violet stepped into the heated Gryffindor locker rooms.

“Violet.” Ron’s voice cut in sharply, causing Violet to jump. She turned to see the ginger leaning against the wall, his arms crossed tightly around his chest. His stance wasn’t particularly intimidating, but she could detect to obvious irritation in his aura.

“What are you still doing in here?” Violet questioned while pulling the elastic from her dark brunet hair.

“I wanted to talk to you.” He said, and Violet became increasingly worried. “You and Harry’ve been spending a lot of time together.”

“So?” she pressed. Ron’s face contorted as he searched for the words.

“Well, I’ve noticed…that you and Malfoy have also been talking recently—”

“Recently? Not at all. This morning was the first time we’ve said anything to each other since we were desk mates.” Violet made sure to emphasize the words _first_ and _desk mates_. As far as she knew Ron had no idea the two of them had kissed, merely that they were at the Owlery together, and she hoped to keep it that way.

“Yeah…I know,” he ran a hand through his messy orange hair, “Even Ginny insisted not to worry. ‘Said you’d made a promise with her and everything. I just wanted to make sure”

 _Yeah, I did make her a promise, didn’t I..._ The friendship binding promise she made suddenly felt dreadfully feeble. She felt the stinging bite of guilt engulf her body, “Nothing to worry about.” Violet forced a smile.

 

When the witch returned to Gryffindor Tower, she found Hermione surrounded by a very intrigued looking Ginny, Alyssa, and Emma. Violet approached the crimson clothed table where the girls sat, catching the attention of Emma, who looked up with a mixed expression of excitement and jealousy.

“Hermione was telling us how they’re offering Disapparation classes for her year!” Emma spoke so quickly that Violet had trouble understanding her, “You’re going to be able to take them, then too, right? Ooohh, you’re so lucky! I would do anything to learn!”

“Disapparation classes?” Violet thought back to a flier she had seen the other day hanging outside the Great Hall and accompanied by a great horde of students. She hadn’t gotten a chance to read it, only catching the title written at the top in bold, official letters. “Is it through the school?”

“No, it’s being offered by the Ministry,” Hermione explained.

“Then I doubt they’d let me take it,” Violet pulled up a chair next to the four girls, “I’m only just about to turn 16.”

“About that!” Ginny perked up, “I was thinking we plan something—”

“No, really, you don’t have too,” Violet interrupted. She swallowed a second pang of guilt.

“Oh come on. Yes we do,” Ginny gave her a playful nudge.

“Maybe something when we go to Hogsmead,” Alyssa suggested.

“You can’t. They’ve cancelled the next few trips, seeing that Katie Bell is still hospitalized. People’s parents are worried and all,” Hermione explained, raising her voice slightly, speaking over Emma’s gasp of disbelief.

“Yeah, Ron’s upset about that too. His birthday’s next month,” a shrug took Ginny’s shoulders.

“When is something not bothering poor Won Won,” Hermione mocked, and Violet caught her eyes drift over to the other side of the common room where Ron and Lavender were locked in a rough embrace, though, Violet had to admit it looked more like two upright cats wrestling than anything else. “Never mind that,” Hermione said bringing the attention back to their table, “I’m sure you guys can ask the house elfs down in the kitchen to prepare a small cake or something.”

“A chocolate one!” Alyssa exclaimed, then exchanged a look with Ginny, “Don’t worry we’re on it.”

The fact that her friends were going out of their way to get Violet a cake made her feel even more ashamed. What was she doing? She had broken Ginny’s wand. She had made her a promise. But what on earth was she doing now? She suppressed a scream as the contrast of glee and guilt tumbled within her. She thought about the kiss one more time. How could something—someone—that made her so happy also cause her so much pain?


	16. Suspicions

By the time the snow had melted, Violet’s sixteenth birthday had gone. Alyssa had been able to convince the kitchen elves of making her a small, chocolate-strawberry cake, but Violet could only guess that in Alyssa’s vocabulary convince and bribe were synonyms. The breakfast of her birthday had brought a few owls barring gifts from her family, and Ginny had offered her a bottle of moisturizing pixie dust oil. More exciting than the presents, though, her father had sent back a letter in response of her intrigue on horcruxes. To her dismay, he too had never heard of such a thing. Late that evening, she snuck off with Draco, the boy wishing her a delightful birthday as they spoke for an hour or more. However, besides this nothing very interesting had occurred on that day, but she wasn’t complaining; rather uneventfully celebrate a birthday than not at all.

 ________________

“Okay, but you have to admit, he’s so attractive,” said Emma, an obvious flush to her cheeks.

“Yeah, I guess, but he’s not really for me.” For the last two days, Emma would not shut up about Anthony Goldstein, the Ravenclaw prefect a year older than them.

“I mean, there I was, sitting, all alone in the library,” the smile plastered on Emma’s face still did not dwindle, even as she began retelling the story for what seemed like the fifth time that morning, “I was absolutely struggling with my Transfiguration’s document analysis. All hope was gone, but just as I’m about to give up this handsome young man approaches me. He asked me if I needed any help—and of course seeing that blue prefect badge next to his Ravenclaw one—I had no other choice than to accept the offer,” the girl took a gulp of air before continuing, “Gosh, he was so kind. Funny too.”

“Then why don’t you connect with him more?” Violet encouraged as the pair weaved their way through the jungle of students on their way back from a surprisingly interesting History of Magic class, “It won’t do you any good if you just sneak away, day dreaming about him all day,”

“That’s true... Violet, you should have seen his eyes! Such beautiful eyes,” Her face suddenly dropped, “Oh no, what if he thinks I’m stupid? I was having so much trouble with that document analysis…What if he thinks I’m bottom of the class?”

Violet stopped the girl, setting a supportive hand on her shoulder, “Emma, relax. Just go talk to him.”

“Yeah, you’re right. If I see him at lunch, I promise I’ll talk to him,” her voice trailed off before picking up again, “And on top of all of that he’s comes from a pureblood family!”

Emma, who also came from a line of purebloods, was the last person to ever call someone out for being muggle-born or to discriminate based on blood status, but there was no denying her attraction to powerful bloodlines. Seeing as her parents no longer believed in the old purist views and had raised their children with much more tolerant ideals, this was surely a trait Emma had picked up from her old-fashioned aunts and uncles.

The crowd grew as the girls turned onto the sixth floor corridor. The densely packed students made it near impossible to navigate through. With mutual agreement, they decided to take the small stairwell on the other end of the sixth floor instead. This route was far from the most direct to Gryffindor Tower, but seeing the circumstances it should prove much quicker than the usual main corridor.

In complete contrast to where they just were, the seventh floor was almost deserted. In fact, the only other person was a small girl in the distance. As they approached Violet spotted the large tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy teaching trolls to do ballet opposite the stretch of wall where she knew hid the Room of Requirements.

“Nymphadil?” Violet called, finally catching the face of the young girl before them. The first year froze in her tracks. She didn’t speak a word. “Nymphadil, is everything okay?” Violet asked, noticing the girl’s twitching hands.

“I’m alright,” she answered in a dreadfully quiet voice, still refusing to make eye contact with the fifth years, and before anyone else could speak, she turned and trotted from where the older girls had just come.

“Something seemed off about her, don’t you think?” Violet remarked.

“Yes, but she probably just felt intimidated by me,” Emma suggested, her eyes focused on the grand tapestry behind them, “You know, two fifth years in an empty corridor and all.”

“I don’t know…doesn’t seem like Nymphadil,” Violet’s gaze followed Emma’s as they both starred at the unique art.

“What a strange tapestry,” said Emma. Violet took a moment more before agreeing, and with that they were off down the multiple zigzagging hallways towards the Gryffindor common room.

When they entered, they were greeted by the delightful smell of cookies, a group of third years huddled around a boy who had evidentially smuggled a handful of pastries from the Great Hall. Although, there was something else that caught her eye. Emerging from the girl’s dormitory was the familiar smiling girl with frizzy black hair. _Nymphadil?_ Violet’s dark eyebrows came together as she watched the first year. How was it even possible for her to have made it to the common room when she had earlier departed in the opposite direction? However, Violet dismissed the thought quickly, assuming that the main corridor on the sixth floor had cleared up by the time Nymphadil had arrived down there.

“Ready to continue this project?” Emma said with a huff of determination, sitting down at one of the table. She reached into her bag and pulled out a notebook, flipping through it until she reached a quite messy page, which bore ink blotches and multiple crossed out paragraphs of scribbled notes.

Reaching into her own bag, Violet realized she did not have her notebook with her. “Shoot,” she exclaimed, “Sorry, but I think I forgot some of my books in Professor Bin’s class. I’ll be right back!” She set down her textbooks; then hurried out, pass the Fat Lady, and down to the first floor.

To her luck, she found the classroom empty, and was able to grab her belongings quickly without disturbing anyone.

“I don’t know… but what about Fenrir Greyback, have you heard of him?” a voice asked from just outside the classroom, and Violet immediately recognized it as Harry’s.

“Yes I have! And so have you,” Hermione’s startled voice followed, “Back in Knockturn Alley, don’t you remember? Malfoy used it as a threat, ‘said Greyback was an old family friend and that he’d be keeping an eye on Borgin’s progress!”

“Blimey Hermione! I forgot. But this proves Malfoy’s a Death Eater…” their conversation trailed off, their footsteps becoming silent once they had gotten far enough down the hall. In the spur of the moment, Violet grabbed her stuff and decided to follow, heart beating heavily at the mentioned of Malfoy and Death Eaters. _They’ve got to be talking about Draco’s father. Yeah, that’s it! They’re talking about his father._

“It’s a possibility, Harry, but unless…” their voices came into ear shot again.

“Seriously? How are you planning to explain this one?” Harry said in an exasperated tone. The pair paused at the top of a staircase; Violet remained hidden on the other side of the wall, but inched forward ever so slightly to hear more of the conversation.

“There’s just one thing I don’t understand…” their voices grew muffled one more time as the distance between the two and Violet grew once again. She peered around the corner, about the follow when—

“Always eavesdropping, aren’t you?” someone spoke from directly behind Violet. The witch spun around only to be face to face with Luna Lovegood. Her glassy orb like eyes stared back at Violet.

“Pardon me?” Violet said.

“I always catch you following people. Why?”

“I…well, I…” Violet gaped at the Ravenclaw.

“I guess we’re all naturally curious,” Luna said pensively, “You better watch out though, my father says that answer seekers always tend to attracted Nao-Jians. Do you know what a Nao-Jian is?”

Violet shook her head.

“No, I supposed you don’t. Well have a good day!” Luna gave her an innocent smile and then descended the stairs.

“You too, Luna,” Violet said slowly. Not knowing how to feel about the encounter, the Gryffindor headed back to where she had left Emma.

 _________________

After classes the next day, Violet was called into McGonagall’s office. The purpose of the meeting was to discuss with the Head of House her academic future. Violet entered into a medium sized oval room at the base of the Defense Against the Dark Arts tower. She had been here a couple times in the few years prior. Her wooden desk remained in the same position, though; Violet noticed that it displayed a whole new arrangement of quills. Next to the latter was a paperweight in the form of an owl. Lining the far side of the room was a grand bookshelf filled to its capacity not only with books, but also with decorative artifacts such as a to scale replica of a golden time turner. Opposite to this, at the foot of a massive, pointed window, was a second table, much smaller than the main desk. It was pilled high with packets and scrolls of parchment that were waiting to be marked and graded. The two red and gold banners, which adorned the walls, matched the rug bellow Violet’s feet. The slightest, but unmistakable, scent of lavender eau de parfum was existent in the air.

“Welcome Miss Ward, take a seat,” The professor said, gesturing from behind the desk to the empty chair before it. “Now, as you know, next year you will be able to choose between multiple elective classes, which you believe will better your studies in preparation of a future career. You’ll also be taking your O.W.Ls in only a few months, and those scores will either confirm or put into question your wishes for next year.” Violet nodded.

“Young Lèving tells me tutoring is going quite well.”

“Yes actually. She’s a pleasure to work with,” Violet said with a smile.

“And how are your classes going this year? Do you enjoy them? Any difficulties?” McGonagal peered at the girl through her thin-framed reading glasses.

“Well, it’s been a pretty good year so far. I’ve stayed above average in all my classes…well except Potions,” Violet subconsciously played with the sleeve of her black cloak.

“I see. May I suggested you go see Professor Slughorn after your next class with him? I’m sure he’ll be more than whiling to help you,” The woman said, her eyes racing down the parchment in her hands and looking back up at Violet, “As for future careers, what interests you? You are taking an extra Defense Against the Dark Arts class, perhaps a job as an auror?”

In all honesty, Violet had never really considered what she wanted to do once she left Hogwarts. She really did enjoy Defense Against the Dark Arts, but she wasn’t sure if a profession as an auror would suit her. “Actually, I’d be really interested in working for a different part of the Ministry. The Department of International Magic Cooperation always caught my attention,” Violet finally said, recalling first time her father had brought her to work with him, the summer after her first year at Hogwarts.

McGonagall raised an eyebrow, a delightful expression of surprise manifesting itself on her face, “Well, in that case, you should continue your studies of Defense Against the Dark Arts, but you will also need a good amount of Muggle Studies and History of Magic. I recommend that you stick with Charms as well; it’s good to have the discipline that is required in Charms when you go into work with the Ministry.”

The meeting didn’t last much longer after that; Violet was a good student overall and was able to avoid trouble—well except for that one time with Snape—leaving room for several compliments on McGonagall’s part. Just as she was going the professor gave her one last acknowledgement on her quidditch performance.

“I would really love for Gryffindor to win the Inter-House Quidditch Cup this year.”

“So would I, Professor.”

 

 _BAM!_ The door to the girl’s dormitory flew open. Parvati Patil stood in the doorway. She spoke in quick, broken words.

“Ginny, Harry sent me. Its Ron.”

The urgency in Parvati’s tone was mirrored by the panicked look on Ginny’s face. Without another word, Ginny hurried out the door.

Word had spread quickly about Ron’s dire state, about how he’d drunk poison, about how the heroic Harry had know exactly what to do to save him. However, it wasn’t until Ginny returned a few hours later that Violet would hear the full story.

“Ron ate some old chocolate’s Romilda Vane gave Harry, thinking they were part of his birthday presents,” Ginny explained, “Turns out they were made with a heavy dosage of love potion.” Ginny rolled her eyes, clearly annoyed that Romilda would ever considering enchanting Harry. “Harry said he brought Ronald to Slughorn’s office for help, and that afterwards they opened some wine to celebrate—it being Ron’s birthday and all. It turned out be poisoned.”

“How did Harry save him?” Violet asked, her back leaning against the window of the dorm.

“Made him eat a bezoar ,” Ginny met Violet’s impressed expression.

“How’d he know to use a bezoar?”

“Something that the Half Blood Pri—” she stopped herself, “Er…an instruction at the back of the Potion’s manual.”

“The Half Blood who?” Violet stood up from her spot near the window.

“No, no one. I’m not sure—Harry, he…Well, anyways, they think it might have been directed towards Dumbledore,” said Ginny, quickly changing the subject.

“Really? You think Slughorn would want Dumbledore dead?” Seeing as the dorm was currently empty, the girls were able to talk with freedom.

“Not exactly. Harry and Hermione think it’s connected to what happened to Katie Bell. They don’t think Slughorn knew it had been poisoned.” Ginny’s eyes flew to the window, and Violet’s followed. An old owl, letter between his beaks, tapped at the glass.

“Possibly. Unless he was under the imperius curse,” Violet advocated as she went to open the window, behind her. She took the letter, reading her own printer name on the front.

“Apparently it was sent to him during Christmas to share with Dumbledore, but of course, being Slughorn, he kept it for himself.” By now, Ginny had gone over to Alyssa’s toad, sticking a hand inside the glass cage to poke at it.

Violet opened the letter. The sender had not signed it, but she instantly knew whom it was from.

 

**_Hidden Tower, tonight?_ **

 

“But Harry and Hermione—especially Harry—have their suspicions,” Ginny added, once the toad had let out a croak.

“Oh really, who?” Violet folded the small note into her pocket.

“Malfoy.”

“Draco Malfoy?” Violet confirmed.

“Well, who else.”

Violet’s heart dropped.

 __________________

The mass of cloaked students pilled out of the Great Hall once dinner has been served, bellies were full, and the mood was at a high.

“I’m going to finish up some work at the library, and do some evening tutoring with Nymphadil. You don’t need to wait for me,” Violet lied, praying that Nymphadil would decide to go to bed early tonight—her wisdom sleep as she preferred to call it—and not stay out late in the Gryffindor common room. She waited until her friends were out of sight, then disappeared down a far corridor; a corridor, one might add, that was certainly not in the direction of the library.

She proceeded through the slowly deserting lamp lit castle as more and more students retired to their dorms. There was no question of where she was headed. The note Draco sent had sparked the eager joy within her, yet the feeling was constantly shadowed by the familiar bite of guilt.

She was pleased, but not all together surprised, to find Draco already sitting against the wall atop the Hidden Tower, a creamy beam of moonlight stretching across his face. He smiled at the patter of her footsteps at the entrance.

“Hi,” Violet spoke, sliding down the wall next to him. This was definitely not the first time they’d asked one another to sneak out—it was becoming quite a regular thing.

“I just wanted to see you,” said the boy, as if on cue. She smiled at him, a sudden urge pilling up in her chest. _Should I do it?_ She asked herself. No, certainly not. He would think she was weird. _I don’t know…maybe. I think I’m going to do it._ Nevermind. He shifted positions, blithely starting a conversation about how he was too young for the upcoming Apparation test, but would definitely pass if he were given the chance. Without a second thought she leaned her head against he shoulder. He stopped speaking. The atmosphere had changed. A gentle hand reached for her knee.

“You know, I’m relieved you received my note,” he began, “and not the Weasley girl or someone else.”

“No, Ginny’s too worried about her brother at the moment,” Violet said. She stiffened slightly, recalling the suspicions the ginger had voiced earlier. The more she contemplated the thought, the more she felt uneasy. The confessions Harry had made, the things she had overheard over many occasions flooded her head.

“Draco?” Violet spoke into the obscurity.

“Yes?”

“Um, well. This might seem crazy,” she searched for the right phrase, but there was no easy way to put it, “I’m not saying anything, but…the whole situation with Katie Bell, and now with Ron, you didn’t have anything to do with it, right?”

“Would I ever do anything to hurt you?” the distinct notes of worry mingled with his words. There was a silence. The answer couldn’t seem to leave Violet’s throat. Images of Draco brought her back to earlier that very year. He had been so quick to do anything to get that key back, whether it affected her or not. He had forced her against the wall outside the D.A.D.A room, wand ready at her throat. He had broken into their dorm, upturning everything they had. But, he had also shared his book with her on the first day. He had apologized for the way he treated her. He had risked a letter, warning her about a life threatening attack.

“Violet, do you trust me?” said Draco, barely maintaining anything more than a whisper.

“Yes,” she replied plainly, though she wasn’t sure if she believed the answer. She suddenly became increasingly aware of his hand on her knee, as his shoulder grew unusually uncomfortable under her head. She swallowed an anxious sigh.


	17. A Life Threatening Oversight

Ron’s incident had provoked a new variety of problems, going by the name of Cormack McLaggen. Seeing as Ron was barely even in the right state to leave his own hospital bed to use the restroom, there was absolutely no chance Madame Pomfrey would allow him to assist the quidditch game. Thus, Harry brought McLaggen in as keeper, a decision that no one was excited about—well, except for Cormack, of course. The game ended with a gap in the scores so large that not even the snitch could make up for. And on top of it all McLaggen’s way of thanking Harry for the opportunity was sending him to join Ron in the infirmary with a bludger shaped sore on his forehead. The only upside to the conundrum caused by Ron’s infortune was that it was finally able to mend the feud between him and Hermione.

A soft breeze blew past, carrying the flowery sent of early spring. A group of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws clutched open books as they jotted down notes. Professor Hagrid stood at the front of the three rows of occupied benches, the medal of his massive belt reflecting the sun. Violet sat to the right of Alyssa and Ginny. Emma was not present; this was an elective she had most decisively chosen not to take.

“Now, the blood o’ a unicorn is worth a lot. Very powerful and has healin’ properties, yeh kow,” Hagrid said in a thick accent, “But very tricky ter get. They won’ let yeh near them. So their rarity tends ter attract poachers.” He shook his head in disgust, “However, they’re quite passive creatures….Can I help yeh, Argus?”

Heads turned to the entrance of the clearing at their backs. Admits the young, pink flowers stood a rather bony and gray Mr. Filch.

“Pardon me for the interruption,” he apologized through his yellowing teeth, but there was no hint of sincerity in his tone, “I’ve come at Professor Dumbledore’s request, for Miss Violet Ward.”

“Oh, certainly,” Hargid said, waving a hand at Violet. It took her a second to get up; her expression of confusing mimicked that of Ginny and Alyssa’s. Following Mr. Filch, Violet left the sunny patch of grass just outside the old stone hut, and Hagrid’s jolly bellow of laughter got lost in the sound of the wind, as he continued his passionate talk on unicorns.

“Am I in trouble?” Violet piped when they entered castle. The caretaker gave her an inconspicuous grunt. “Did I do something wrong?” she felt the panic begin in her fingertips. Had someone seen her sneaking off to the Hidden Tower?

“I hope Professor Dumbledore isn’t upset with me. Do you know what it is I’ve done—”

“Maybe if you stop babbling, we could get to his office quicker, and then you can ask him yourself,” Filch scowled under his long, stringy hair. Violet swallowed sheepishly, and a sharp silence fell upon them. Even once they faced the giant, gold gargoyle at the foot of the Head Master’s office, they did not speak. The awe-inspiring statue had already stepped aside, revealing the circular staircase that led upward. Dumbledore was definitely expecting her.

“Dad?” she gasped. In the midst of a hallowing conversation with the Dumbledore, her father sat at the center of the Head Master’s office.

“Violet!” his exclamation proceeded a hug. When they pulled away, the witch noticed that there was a big bruise above his eyebrow, his beaten skin had an uncanny gray tint to it, and the dark circles under his eyes dung deep into his cheeks. He looked absolutely dreadful.

“What’s going on? Why are you here?” The air in the room stiffened and Violet’s eyes flew from her father to Dumbledore trying to grasp any sense of reassurance.

“Sweet heart, something’s happened. We were assaulted last evening. Death Eaters. Three of them. They forced their way in, said they would kill us if we didn’t let them search the house. I have no idea what they were looking for. But as they were leaving one of them attacked your mother,” he grasped his daughter’s hand, “We’ve taken her to Saint Mungo’s, but she’s not used to the effects of magic, her muggle immune system isn’t built for this kind of attack.”

Violet was speechless. She wanted to say something—anything—but couldn’t bring the words from her throat. Her own parents, attacked. She didn’t want to believe it.

“She’s going to live, right?” the girl finally managed.

“I think,” was all her dad said, and the answer brought her little to no closure.

“Why?” Violet leaned her standing body against the back of the velvety chair where her father had been seated, afraid that her legs wouldn’t be able to hold her for much longer, “Why attack us? What have we done?”

“I don’t know.”

After a few more minutes, her father gave her one last embrace of farewell, then disappeared in a green puff of floo powder, rushing back to her mother’s side.

“Violet, you are dismissed from the rest of today’s classes if you wish,” Dumbledore spoke in an easing manner than was miraculously able to sooth some of the girl’s worry.

By the time lunch rolled around, Mr. and Mrs. Ward’s names had been printed within a page of the Daily Profet, surrounded by the articles of those who had also been attacked within the last twenty-four hours. As the amount of victims grew each day, this section of the Daily Profet had become permanent, but never once did Violet expect to see her own last name in it.

“That’s absolutely terrible,” said Ginny, an untouched ham sandwich on her plate. Alyssa sympathetically rubbed Violet’s back in a circular motion.

“They completely demolished your house and everything,” Emma frowned.

“Emma, I don’t care about the stupid house! My mum’s in the hospital, Blimey,” Violet flared, but the moment passed, “S-sorry…I’m…”

“No, don’t apologize. We totally understand,” Emma reassured her.

As the end of the meal approached, Violet had come to the conclusion that sitting alone all day worrying would do her little good. So, she headed back up to the dorms to grab her book bag and D.A.D.A textbooks. There remained a few minutes left of the lunch period, but seeing as her friends had already departed towards their next classes, Violet did the same. The corridors were still sparse with students, many of them still in the Great Hall.

“Violet,” Draco called. She stopped walking to let him catch up, “I heard what happened. Are you okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, “But my parents…” She didn’t need to continue, the Slytherin wrapped his arms around her. She exhaled. He let go, offering her a supportive grin.

“The paper said your mum is going to recover.”

“I hope so,” Violet said, “Its just—like—why? Why us? I don’t understand what my family did to deserve this.”

The supportive grin on Draco’s lips suddenly drooped at the edges and his eyes widened.

“What? Draco, why do you look like that?”

“Violet,” the boy’s air became urgent, “Do you remember the letter I sent you during the Holidays.” She nodded slowly, “Please tell me that after you read it, you burnt it.”

“Of course I—” she froze, “Oh, shit.”

“So, you didn’t burn it?” He brought a shaky hand to his temple, and when the witch shook her head, he used it to brush away the sweat that formed at his hairline. “This is bad, so bad. You’re lucky your mother is even alive.”

Violet’s vision started to blur as the wet tears built in her eyes, but she did her best not to let them fall, “D-Dra…Draco, I’m scared.” She could barely speak.

“Don’t cry. We’ll figure this out. I promise.” The coming chatter of arriving students forced the two to step away from each other, and she could see the pain in the blonde’s eyes. Draco, then, hissed a “Potter” as Harry passed and the Gryffindor returned it with an equally affronting “Malfoy”.

Understandably, Violet was unable to focus throughout the entirety of the class. Never did she raise her hand, nor did she take notes. There were even times when Violet caught herself staring blankly at the backboard, her textbook not on the desk, nonetheless opened to the right page. Snape must have kept himself up to date with the Profet and had decided to show his normally absent human compassion, for he made no remark to Violet’s behavior. In fact, he had not used this as an excuse to strip Gryffindor of its house points—a freedom he so frequently loved to indulge in.

Like a magnet, Violet’s eyes kept getting pulled back to the clock above the door, just itching for it to be the end of class so she could speak to Draco. She had so many questions and even more concerns. She knew Draco wouldn’t know all the answers, but as of the current situation, he was the only one she could talk freely with. Well, except for Harry, but something told her that, seeing the role of Draco’s letter in her parents attack, their conversation wouldn’t end particularly favorable.

The cool wave of relief washed over the young witch at the sound emanating from the old Bell Tower. In spite of her patience, Draco had slipped out of the classroom in the blink of an eye. Quickly, she slung her bag over her shoulder and squeezed her way out of the room, not quite catching the solicitous comment made by Hermione, probably on the subject of Violet’s parents.

Draco was far down the corridor, however, Violet chose not to call for him, well aware of all the classmates at her sides. Thus, she set off in his direction as discreetly as possible. Almost immediately she recognized the path of this trail. It was this very pursuit that she had done at the beginning of the year, where she had discovered Draco and the mysterious black cabinet. However, this time it wasn’t exclusively them two in the halls and the mass of students made it hard for Violet to keep up with him.

Out of nowhere he stopped. For a second, she was afraid she had lost him all together, but out of the corner of her eye, Violet spotted that unmistakable mop of platinum hair. Stepping onto one of the wide windowsills, the witch peered over the bobbing heads. Draco bent down, and that’s when Violet saw _her._ The Gryffindor tie, the frizzy hair, the jagged glasses…Draco was whispering something into the little ear of Nymphadil Lèving.


	18. A Lie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick heads up, there is a part of this chapter that may be a little graphic

As the stress of exams neared, students desperately sought diversions. With procrastination running high and the weather quickly warming, the Black Lake became the newest recreational attraction.

Not much more than two weeks after Violet had found her father in Dumbledore’s office, she had received a letter that allowed her to relax to some extent. Her mother’s recovery was going quite well, and although she would still remain at Saint Mungo’s for a bit longer, there was no need to worry. Additionally, her father wrote that the Ministry had organized for an auror to pass every few hours the next couple days. This being said, Violet couldn’t shake the tugging apprehension caused by the idea that Death Eaters had found out about her and the young Malfoy’s correspondence.

After spending their Sunday morning drowning in manuals and months worth of notes, the four friends took the liberty of joining a good third of the school down by the Black Lake.

“I for one am not touching that water,” Emma declared as they reached the beach.

“Then why did you even come down here?” Alyssa, on the other hand, completely intended to spend as much time as possible in the lake.

“To tan of course!”

Violet dipped a daring toe into the water, it was definitely cold, but fitting considering that the blistering sun now lingered directly above their heads.

“Oh, hurry up,” Ginny teased, her torso already submerged underwater.

The sunny afternoon brought a smile to Violet’s face. It was nice to forget about all the struggles of life, even if it was just for a few hours. On multiple occasions, Alyssa had managed to wrap and arm around Violet’s waist and tug her bellow the surface. Violet would emerge each time, hands wiping the water from her eyes. It was all fun and lighthearted. They were eventually joined by a group of sixth year Ravenclaws, one of which being Anthony Goldstein. The Ravenclaw prefect was the only one that had been able to coax Emma to swim, and when Violet says this, she means Emma was practically leaping into the lake at the first sight of the boy in the water. The group talked for quite some bit, at one point even all around abusing McLaggen’s performance during that one Gryffindor-Hufflepuff quidditch match. Goldstein told a mediocre joke, and Emma let out a roar of laughter that was three times bigger than everyon—

Something latch a claw around Violet wrist, before she could even say anything, it pulled her underwater. It wasn’t Alyssa. Panicking, she kicked upwards; spotting a glimpse of the green creature that had ceased her. The more she struggled the tighter it’s grip got, but with one strong blow to the face, she managed to break away with just enough time to take a gulp of air.

“G-Gi….N-Y” she did her best to call. It was too late; her moment had gone. The creature sunk long, pointed nails into her abdomen dragging her away from the coast and down to the lakebed. She let out an agonizing cry, but the meters of water above her made sure that it would never reach her friends above. The water was so cloudy that Violet couldn’t see any farther than her fingertip, and the muck in the water made her eyes sting. Her lungs were burning. The creature bound her body with six slimy tentacles. Her lungs were burning. The creature’s agitated squeals got louder and louder in her ears. Her lungs were burning. The creature ran a set of razor sharp teeth along her shoulder.

 Her lungs were blistering now, and then everything went blank.

Someone was screaming.

Everything went blank.

“ _Tergeo!”_ a voice said, “Hand me that needle. Quickly!”

Everything went blank.

Violet’s eyes fluttered open slowly, her heartbeat thumped in her chest. Although, her eyes were open, all she could see was darkness. There was a distinct buzzing sound and as her vision cleared, the noise got louder.

Flies swarmed at all her orifices: in her ears, at the corners of her eyes, at the base of her nose, and across her dry lips. She needed so badly to gasp for air, but feared that she would inhale the bugs if she opened her mouth. She felt incredibly cold, yet balls of sweat ran down her back and hit the ground with abnormally loud echoing splats. She looked down at her feet; realizing that she was actually standing in a brunette puddle of her soggy hair.

Something sparkled in the distance. Being the only source of light, Violet felt comforted by it, even if it was nothing more than a glimmer. Taking a bet, she ran towards it, the haunting resonance of her ankles crunching came with each step. Once getting close enough, she was able to see that it was a beetle shaped floor-standing mirror. She peered into it with absolute horror; the sweat she had felt earlier was in fact not sweat at all, but her very own skin melting away and revealing the bone underneath.

She wanted to look away, but all of the sudden she couldn’t move. The smell of her decaying body attracted more and more flies until she wasn’t even able to see her own reflection.

Everything went blank once more.

 

“Bloody Hell. First her parents and now this, the universe must really have it out for the Wards,” Ron spoke somewhere above Violet. She didn’t move for a couple seconds, letting her conscience rebuild itself. Her hands twitched slowly. She sat up abruptly.

“Vi!” Alyssa said in delight. Violet was resting in a soft, white infirmary bed. Around her stood six familiar faces: Ginny, Alyssa, Emma, Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

“You didn’t all have to come,” Violet said, her throat dry. She felt progressively guilty that she hadn’t been down to visit Ron when he had been poisoned.

“Nonsense,” Hermione eased, “How are you feeling?”

“What...what happened?” Violet asked.

“Well,” began Ginny, “You were attacked by a Grindylow. It dragged you to the bottom of the lake; we couldn’t get to you. But thank Merlin, one of the merpeople was able tame the creature, and he brought you back to the shore.”

“It’s quite strange, actually,” Hermione interposed, “Grindylows never go to that part of the beach. It’s too shallow. I have no idea how that one would have ended up near you.”

“How long was I out?” Violet noted that the sun, which filtered through the shades, was much brighter than it had been during the afternoon before.

“Not much more than twenty-four hours,” Harry replied, “Your parents sent an owl. They wanted to come, but you know…with your mum and all.”

“But Nymphadil stopped by, left you those,” Emma pointed to half eaten bag of Jelly Slugs.

“Did anyone else visit?” Violet asked, making a valiant attempt not to sound hopeful. The answer was no. Madame Pomfrey was quick to shoo everyone away after that, insisting that all this talk was prohibiting Violet from resting peacefully.

Boredom over came the witch as the clock handles spun around each other. She propped herself on her elbow so that she could face the door, only now becoming aware of the tight bandage around her waist. She knew it was foolish of her to expect Draco to visit; it was far too risky for the boy. Nonetheless, she secretly hoped that he would come to see her in the middle of the night.

He never came. Even once Violet had been discharged from the infirmary, Draco didn’t approach her. It almost seemed as though he was avoiding her all together, but she knew it couldn’t be that. There were now more eyes on Violet due to her family’s recent dramas, and it was understandable that Draco wouldn’t want to call attention to him and the Gryffindor.

However, as the days went by, Violet grew impatient, never quite able to catch him after a D.A.D.A class. She wanted to talk to the Slytherin again, but the opportunity hadn’t come up.

“Why does Slughorn keep giving us homework if he knows that our O.W.Ls are barely in two weeks,” Emma complained, and Alyssa sighed in agreement.

“But, it’s still good practice,” Violet offered, though it fell short of receiving nods of approval. They were making their way to the library for yet another Transfiguration study session. That’s when she saw _him_.

“Er, actually I need to check something quickly. I’ll catch up with you guys in a bit,” Violet tried. Alyssa arched an eyebrow, and Violet was scared she would contend, but after a moment she smiled.

Once the two girls had disappeared through the doors of the library, Violet turned and headed in the direction she had just seen Draco go.

“Hi,” she greeted, but the boy kept walking, merely uttering a faint “oh”. This took Violet by surprise and she quickened her pace as best she could (the bandage still around her waist), “Is everything okay?”

“Ward, please let me be—”

“Ward?” Violet didn’t understand, and he stare at her through his menacing eyelashes, “What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into me? You should be asking yourself that question,” he didn’t even look at her, “You’re so clingy. Why do you keep finding me?”

“I thought we…I thought you liked me,” her voice became weak.

“Oh please. You? I never liked you,” he sneered, and when seeing the look on Violet’s face he let out an exasperated sigh, “Don’t be so gullible, it’s pathetic.”

“I don’t understand,” alarm rushed through her body to her toes.

“Wasn’t it obvious? I was only using you to get close to Potter.” His low chuckle made her blood run cold. She mouthed the word “but”, unable to find the energy to make it audible.

“It was all a lie, Ward. Get over yourself,” and with that last cutting phrase, he left her standing alone in the obscure corridor. Violet was so shocked she couldn’t even cry. The foreign pain she was feeling made her forget about the bandages at her center—this pain was countless times worse. She frantically pondered what had just happened, unable to grasp any sense of it. Her body suddenly felt very heavy, each step taking a huge effort. Soon enough, Violet’s sadness was replaced with utter rage. She was mad at Draco. She was mad at the situation. She was mad at herself. Falling for Draco Malfoy? How could she have ever been such an idiot? The witch had spent hours sneaking off to see the boy; she had almost risked her friendship with Ginny; she had given Draco back that stupid key that opened that evil cabinet, and for what? For nothing but absolute humiliation.

The Gryffindor wallowed in a mixture of self-pity and self-hatred for the next days. This didn’t go unnoticed by her friends, but when asked about it she would put the blame on the Grindylow attack.

“Are you sure there’s nothing else bothering you?” Ginny pressed. They were sitting in the girl’s dormitory, a few lamps flickered on the wall, trying to preserve the light as the sky outside grew dark. Violet sat on the corner of her bed, using her wand to make a stray sock float up and down in the air.

“Yes. I’m just confused about the attack. That’s all.” Violet replied shortly.

“I don’t know, you seem more sad than confused,” Ginny wasn’t buying it, she knew there was something off about the story, but she couldn’t figure out what, and Violet was not about to tell her, “You can talk to me, I’m always here for you.”

“I appreciate it, but honestly it’s fine,” Violet decided it would be best to leave the room before she says anything she’d regret, “I have tutoring in a few minutes. I have to go.”

 __________________

“Ready to go to the library?” Nymphadil called, seeing Violet emerge into the common room.

“Actually? Do you just want to do it here? I’m afraid the library might be a bit warm,” the witch suggested, but in all honesty she couldn’t care less about the temperature of the library. No, she only feared the slight chance that she would run into Draco. Shrugging, Nymphadil followed her to an unoccupied table to the side of the common room. Violet sat down with an agitated huff.

“Anger dwells only in the bosom of fools,” Nymphadil spoke and Violet looked at her completely puzzled, “It’s a quote by that one muggle. Maybe you know of him? Albert Einstein.”

“Right,” Violet pursed her lips, “So, what are we working on today? Charms or Astronomy?”

“Astronomy,” the little girl answered, setting a few photographs taken at the Astronomy tower on the table and lifting a roll of parchment from her bag, “Professor Sinistra thinks she’s being clever, but let me tell you—”

“Nymphadil?” Violet began with out warning. There had been something on her mind for a while, but she never bothered to mention it until now, “The other week, I saw you talking with Draco Malfoy. What was going on?”

“With Draco Malfoy? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Nymphadil was already preoccupied with organizing her photographs so that they all lay perfectly parallel in front of her, the same centimeter separating each one.

“I’m serious. Please don’t lie to me.” This definitely caught Nymphadil’s attention. She looked up with a jerk, a small hand going to push back the glasses that hung on the tip of her nose.

“Lie? Violet let me tell you, Nymphadil Hypotia Lèving of Paris does not lie. Lying will do me no good if I want to become the most legendary witch of the century. Maybe you’re just seeing double,” her austere tone did not father.

And then all at once, everything fell into place. Violet stood up, “I’m sorry, we’re going to have to do this some other time.” Everything made sense now. How had she not figure this out before? The mysterious potion smell on Crab, the shy Nymphadil she had seen on the seventh floor corridor, and the strange sight of Draco talking to the Gryffindor first year; the puzzle had finally put itself together in Violet’s mind.

“Where’s Harry?” she asked, barging into the boy’s dormitory.

“Hey! You can’t be in here,” Seamus Finnegan interjected, but Violet ignored him. She pushed open several doors until she found the room where Harry and Ron sat, deep in discussion. They both looked up at her, equally as shocked as Seamus had been.

“Violet?” Harry inclined his head.

“Malfoy’s been using polyjuice potion to disguise Crab and is having him keep watch outside while he disappears into the Room of Requirement! You haven’t been able to catch him again because Crab warns him before you can even step foot inside!”


	19. Peace in the Stars (part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty long chapter, but it's important.

Violet didn’t sleep well that night. Something else was on her mind, and Draco’s confession wouldn’t be able to distract her from it forever. As she lay there, legs tangled in her bed sheets, her thoughts kept going back to a dark place. Every time her eyes would even hint at closing, she was reminded of that haunting buzzing noise. Up until now, she hadn’t really considered the dream that she had had after the Grindylow attack, but presently, in the calm of the night, that was all she could think about.

The girl still felt uneasy, as the sun pooled into the dormitory. She glanced over at Ginny’s slowly waking body, suddenly feeling compelled to tell her everything; everything about the cabinet, about Draco, about her dream, but she stopped herself. She truly wanted to tell her friend, yet there was something deep inside her that told Violet she couldn’t. _I should just deal with this on my own._ However, as the day progressed, Violet pestered herself with more and more questions that she could not answer.

 

“That’s it for today,” Professor Flitwick raised his voice in order to make himself heard over the now stirring class, “Please look over those essays! You’ll surely have something similar on the O.W.Ls,” but it was all in vein, the majority of the students already pilling at the door.

“Sir?” Violet asked, lingering behind. The last student slipped out, the door shutting behind him.

“Violet! How can I help you?” said the professor, his wand dancing in the air frantically, as he organized all his papers and books in a neat pile on the desk.

“You know how earlier in the year you said I could talk to you if there was ever anything.” He was definitely listening now, and he lifted himself onto his chair so that he was at the same level as Violet. She continued, “I was just wondering, do dreams mean anything. Like, are there certain types of dreams, you know…sorry, I don’t know if I’m making any sense.”

“Hmm, perhaps this might be a better question for Professor Trelawny or Professor Snape,” Flitwick suggested, however he must have spotted the obvious look of disfavor on her face, for he added, “Well, dreams are very interesting. They can either be utterly dismissible figments of our imagination, or they can possibly be visions and messages.”

“But Sir, how do you know which one it is?” The eagerness broke through her words.

“It’s up to us as individuals to determine which one they are, and more importantly, to determine whether they are worth acting upon.” He ran a hand through his hair before flashing an inane smile, “But, honestly Professor Trelawny and Professor Snape would know more about the matter than me.” Violet paused debating whether or not she was actually whiling to speak with one of them…certainly not Snape.

“Thanks anyways, Sir,” she breathed, turning to leave.

“Is everything okay?” he stopped her, “You’re doing alright?”

“Yes, perfectly,” she answered simply, though there was little truth to it. With one last respectful smile, she fixed her book bag on her shoulder and left. Violet jumped, the click of the door behind her; Ginny’s pouting face challenged Violet.

“What dream?” the ginger asked, surely having eaves dropped on the conversation.

“Oh er…it’s not a big deal, trust me,” Violet’s voice quivered slightly, she cleared her throat, “Shouldn’t we head to lunch now?”

“Violet you can’t dismiss me like this. What’s going on?” Even as Violet started walking, Ginny did not move.

“I’ll explain some other time, promise,” sighed the witch.

“No Violet. I’m tired of this. You keep giving me all these empty promises. You keep telling me you’re going to open up and talk, but you never do,” the anger was building in Ginny’s voice, “It’s not fair to me. You have this idiotic idea ingrained in your brain that you’re the only one capable of fixing things, that only you are able to figure things out! Have you ever stopped to think how this affects everyone else? In your head you’re the center of the universe.”

“I don’t think I’m the center of the universe!” abashed, Violet’s tone matched Ginny’s, “When did I ever say that?”

“You don’t have to say it! You’re actions speak loud enough. You dismiss everyone—you dismiss me, your best friend—even when it’s to offer you help. It’s like you can only accept it if you’re the sole hero. I’m so tiered of this. Violet, I genuinely care about you, but if you keep putting me through this over and over again, I don’t think I can stay friends with you…”

            That last sentence pumped rage into Violet’s blood. How could Ginny come at her like this? With a mighty huff, she took up her pace again down the corridor. All Violet’s ever wanted to do was be a good friend; she’s only ever tried to do well in the world…. she stopped walking, standing in that thought for a moment longer. Ginny really did have a point, and the realization made her head droop. Violet really had been unfair this year. This misplaced feeling of responsibility Violet had within her always warned her of burdening Ginny with her problems, but only now was she getting a glimmer of the true reality of the situation.

“Ginny?” she called out, not even sure if the ginger was still there, “I’m sorry.” There was a silence, “I’m really really sorry.”

She was answered by a faint sniffle; Ginny was crying, and so was Violet, “Ginny, there’s just been so much going on this year. I didn’t want to make you unhappy…but I guess I’ve gone and done just that.”

“I miss us. The old us, back when we would tell each other everything,” Ginny hiccupped, “It pains me so much to see you like this.”

Violet turned around. It had been a while since she’d seen Ginny cry, and the fact that she was the cause of these tears made a heavy feeling pull at her chest.

“Ginny, I’m sorry,” Violet repeated, “I haven’t been truthful at all.” She raised her arms up to hug Ginny; fear tickled the back of her mind at the possibility that Ginny might not accept it. But, an overwhelming pulse of relief replaced it as Ginny wrapped her arms about Violet. “I’ll explain everything.”

Deciding that fresh air would be a good choice to dry their eyes, the pair strolled down to towards the area where stood Hagrid’s hut, shoulders brushing. Violet kept her voice low as she recalled in great detail the dream that had come to her. Ginny’s eyes widened.

“Oh God,” she exclaimed clearly finding the dream equally as disturbing, “Do you reckon it actually means something?”

“That’s what I was hoping Flitwick would tell me, but well…you heard him,” said Violet.

“Then maybe we should talk to someone else about it.”

“I don’t know if I feel comfortable with Snape looking into my head like that, and Trelawny…well in all honesty, she’s bit of a cook.”

“I’m definitely not questioning her sanity, but that doesn’t change the fact that she knows what she’s doing when it comes to this type of thing.” Ginny sounded sure, but Violet remained on the fence.

“Honestly, it was just a dream. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Violet said, “After all, we should be concentrating on our O.W.Ls right now.”

Lunch was filled with the complaints of a very stressed Emma, who hadn’t even touched her plate; too busy with her nose glued to her several textbooks. Harry had approached Violet as the group dispersed, heading to their next classes. He had offered to escort her on the way to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. She eagerly agreed, guessing that Harry wasn’t just offering to be nice, but that there was something else on his mind.

“What’s up?” She asked.

“That thing you said the other night,” he began, “About Malfoy and Crab and the Polyjuice potion, you’re definitely right.”

She raised an eyebrow, urging him to continue.

“I followed Malfoy to the Room of Requirements the other night, that first year you tutor was there, but as we all know, it was actually Crab. It was a smart plan on Mafloy’s part; I couldn’t get pass thanks to Crab. So, I decided to go back yesterday, but this time with the invisibili—” he stopped himself, “Er…I went back and was able to sneak pass.”

“The invisible what now?” she gave him a puzzled stare, but he shook his head.

“That’s not important. But what is is that Malfoy still has a fascination with that black cabinet. I hung around after he left, tried to open it, but I couldn’t. _Alohomora_ wouldn’t work either.”

“There’s a key. Size of your palm, silver, matching carved design,” affirmed Violet and Harry’s mouth dropped open.

“How do you know?” he bid.

“I stole it.” Astonished, Harry’s mouth opened wider, “I mean—I don’t have it anymore…It’s complicated,” it really wasn’t, but Violet wasn’t about to get into that, “but Malfoy has it again.”

He took a moment before commenting, “Well, we need that key if we’re going to figure out what that cabinet does. I can sneak down to Slytherin’s dorms during dinner and take the key. I’ve snuck into the dungeons before, I can do it again.”

“Not going to work,” she opposed with a shake of her head, “You see, I stole the key from Malfoy himself, I highly doubt he’d have it laying around his room—especially after I took it.” Harry let out a hiss of hot breath. They both understood how important that key was, but no options where being presented. Violet cursed herself silently; she had had the key; she could have kept it hidden, but she let herself be so easily fooled by Draco. She had returned to the Slytherin the only thing they had against him.

“We’ll figure this out,” Violet asserted as they approached the D.A.D.A. classroom, many students already leaning against the walls surrounding the door.

“Yeah, Malfoy isn’t that smart. We can…” his voice trailed off, “Speaking of the devil.”

Draco emerged form the corridor opposite them. Violet’s stomach twisted around itself, and she couldn’t help but remark that he looked particularly stressed, his thumb fiddled with the strap of his leather bag, and he chewed softly on his lower lip. He didn’t say anything to the girl, but she knew Draco had noticed Harry and her conversing together, flashing her a menacing stare. Better not let Draco think the two of them were planning anything. Violet whispered quickly to Harry that they would discuss this more during class, then awkwardly went to third wheel in a conversation between Parvati and Lavender as Ron and Hermione joined Harry.

Doing their best to ignore Snape’s attention as well as Draco’s, Harry and Violet had come to a conclusion by the end of class. This evening, Harry would wait for Draco outside the dungeons, follow him, then when the time was right, he would stun the Slytherin and take the key. The boy noted that lately Draco had a tendency of frequenting the Room of Requirements after curfew at the time that the castle was asleep. When the Gryffindor girl questioned him on how he knew this information, Harry abjured, claiming once again that it wasn’t important.

They parted ways when Snape’s lectures came to a close, Violet back to the common room, and Harry most likely off to lurk somewhere. Violet made the conscience decision of taking the long route back to Gryffindor Tower, that way she could pass by the stairwell that led down to Slytherin’s Dungeons.

It was odd, she thought to herself, still not able to get over everything that had happened between her and Draco this year. He truly had been brilliant, hadn’t he, the way he played her and the way he made her feel certain things. She rolled over that thought again. Violet really had liked him. In the midst of Draco’s clever ruse, she had genuinely fallen for the boy. It was that that made all of this so much harder to bear.

Her steps slowed as she came around the bend where was located the stairs that eventually led down to the dungeons. It had been years since Violet had really spent time in this area of Hogwarts, of course she’s been down the corridor of the dungeons that held the potions classroom as well as Snape’s office, but rarely did she ever cross paths with Slyterin’s common room. The curiosity on the tip of her mind pushed her to take a step closer to the stairs. With a weary glance over her shoulder to make sure there was no one in her immediate vicinity, she took off down the steps. Of course, she was aware she wouldn’t actually be able get into the Slytherin common room, for she knew its entrance was concealed behind a wall of stone and necessitated a password, much like the Gryffindor Tower. Nonetheless, her conversation with Harry prompted a particular interest within her.

The stairs pooled down to an open hallway. There were several flame lit lanterns along the stone, but no paintings. Violet’s gaze swept up and down the wall before her, trying to guess where exactly the door to the common room was located; perhaps it was much farther down the corridor. But it was useless; Slytherin’s Dungeons were well hidden. A huff of defeated acceptance escaping her parted lips, she turned on herself, ready to leave. That’s when her blood ran cold.

Her reflection stared back at her, and the fire of the lamps casted an orangey glow around her body. Violet didn’t move a muscle. It wasn’t her reflection that had scared her, but rather _what_ was reflecting it. Framing her now frigid body was a beetle shaped floor-standing mirror—the mirror she had seen in that horrific dream. The beat of her heart now rushing her ears, Violet sprinted up the stairs.

Her body slammed into something, forcing her to stop.

“What are you doing down here?” came a stern voice. Taking a chance to distance herself she recognized the boy as Theodore Nott, a wizard with whom she’d never spoken to before but had often seen talking with Draco and his friends. He was quite a bit taller than her and although his voice had sounded kind enough, his broad shoulders had a threatening aura to them.

“I-I…um. Sorry,” she practically squealed, squeezing past the boy and hurrying up the steps.

Violet sprinted through the castle, pushing past students, and skipping steps. She didn’t stop to answer the questions of those she brushed shoulders with. Despite the forming ache in her side, she continued until she was leaping through the portrait hole and grabbing Ginny by the hand.

“Woah!” the ginger let out a yelp, “Are you okay?”

“Just come,” Violet hyperventilated. Ginny looked at her for a second, but then with a tilt of the head, she followed Violet back out into the corridors.

“Are you going to at least tell where we’re off to?” Ginny swatted at Violet’s arm, making her to let go of her strong grip on the ginger’s wrist.

“To Trelawny. We have to figure out what my dream means,” said Violet, finally starting to catch her breath. With this new bit of information, Ginny moved with eager steps, as they got closer to the North Tower.

The worry that had logged itself in the pit of Violet’s stomach had grown. The sight of the mirror _there_ , _tangible_ , _right in front_ _of her_ brought this little taste of reality to the dream and she couldn’t ignore the pulsing feeling in her veins

As they got to the top of the North Tower, Violet swung open the circular trap door, rushing into the unoccupied classroom.

“Professor we need you!” Violet cried out, “I had this dream and I—”

“I don’t think she’s here,” Ginny cut in.

“Professor?” Violet called into the emptiness. She moved forward, glancing behind a group of round desks towards Trelawny’s study. No one. Testing her luck, she pressed forward into the room.

“What’s this?” Ginny said behind her, snatching a piece of parchment from the front most table. She read aloud, “ ‘Dear whom it may concern: Due to personal and spiritual necessities, I will be out for the next few days. Feel free to leave me any notes in the box on my desk, and I will get to them upon my return. May your chakras offer themselves to the energy of the world and let your Inner Eye stay open to its possibilities—Professor Trelawny.’ ”

Violet couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh, running her hands through her hair. She didn’t want to cry. She really didn’t, but when the first tear hit her burning cheeks she couldn’t fight it any longer

“Hey…don’t!” Ginny pulled her close with a supportive arm. “Don’t cry. We’ll figure this out.”

“I’m scared,” Violet admitted; her once obscure fear was now very much present, “I hate this Gin, I feel like an dramatic first year crying over a bad dream.” Violet tried to laugh.

“Well, it certainly was a bad dream,” Ginny reciprocated her smile, “Come on, let’s get back to the dorms. We’ll visit Trelawny later in the week.” Grateful for her best friend, Violet swiped her fingers across her wet eyes, and the two headed for the exist.

However halfway down the steep staircase of the North Tower, Violet came to a halt granting her a confused retort from Ginny.

“This is going to sound crazy,” Violet whispered, although they were alone, “But, what about Snape. What if we talk to Snape?”

“Snape?” Ginny repeated.

“Yes. Flitwick had recommended we speak to Trelawny or Snape. You even said it yourself.”

“I guess, but do you actually trust Snape? I mean…it’s Snape!” Ginny said with an uneasy air.

“It’s not about whether I trust Snape. It’s about whether Snape can give me some answers,” Ginny was still awfully weary, but Violet was determined now. The thought that perhaps Snape could bring even the slightest glimmer of sense to this whole situation sent Violet speeding down the stairs with Ginny, cloaks swooshing in their wake.

Truthfully, as they landed at the bend in the staircase just near Snape’s office, she grew a bit nervous, wondering if the professor would dismiss her all together. Violet paused; face inches from the wooden door. She glanced at Ginny, but the girl shot her a look that said _This was your idea, not mine._ Violet swallowed, her relaxed knuckles making contact with the door.

“Come in,” called the flat voice on the other side. Forcing the rising regret back into her depth, Violet pushed the door open. Snape’s eyes widened in surprise—a sight you don’t see everyday. “And what do I owe the…pleasure?” The jars of colored liquids, suspending small body parts and immobile creatures within them, casted a green gleam over his pale face. His long black hair and black outfit almost camouflaged him completely in the obscurity of the room. A single dim, orangey lamp swayed back and forth at the ceiling, casting various shadows around the room.

“Hello, Sir,” Violet said, skittishly still in the doorway, “I was wondering if you could help with something,” he raised an eyebrow and Violet continued, “You see, I had this dream.”

Instantly Snape turned back to the papers on his desk, marking the top and flipping to the next in a routine sort of way. Every hint of intrigue now replaced with boredom. “Miss Ward, the Owlery is down past the Gate Keeper’s Hut. I’m sure there you’ll be able to send Mummy and Daddy a letter.” A searing warmth of embarrassment prickled at her cheeks and her nails bit the palms of her hands. Ruefully, she ebbed back out the door. But Ginny wasn’t having it; with a confident step forward she addressed Snape in a daring tone.

“Professor, I realize you may be unwilling to aid two Gryffindors such as ourselves. However, last time I checked Hogwarts was supposed to be a safe place for students to grow and learn. Listen Sir, you and I both know that we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t urgent.” Snape took a moment, leaning back in his seat. Then, with a gesture of his hand he invited them in.

“So this dream,” Violet began again, “It happened right after I was attacked by the Grindylow. I woke up and I was in this dark place with a mirror—a beetle shaped mirror. And I was dead more or less, like, I was standing and thinking, but I was dead.” The man’s black beady eyes stared her down, barely blinking. She felt uneasy, it was as though he was penetrating her thoughts. She swallowed a gulp of her building saliva. _He can’t possibly be…I mean he could…what was it called again? Hermione explained it to me—ligilen…no that’s not it. Legemeny…no that wasn’t the word either…_

“It’s called _legilimency_ ,” Snape answered her question aloud. _Right._ It was the act of magically navigating through the many layers of a person’s mind. She almost felt violated, but shook the feeling, for she knew this was going to help her get answers.

He muttered something indistinct.

“The thing is, Sir, the beetle shaped mirror in my dream, I’d never seen it or heard of it before in my life…that is, until just earlier.” Violet added trying to read Snape’s face, but it remained emotionless.

“I think its best that you stop messing around and that you return to your dorm like a behaved student after supper,” said Snape, carefully blank. It was scarcely the type of answer Violet wanted, but the resting frown on the man’s face told her that he was not going to spend any further time on the subject. Saying quick, halfhearted goodbyes, the two Gryffindors left the office.

“That was helpful,” Ginny retorted sarcastically as they went to grab their History of Magic notebooks and then proceed to the first floor.

“Well, for now I’m just going to assume it was nothing serious. I mean, if my life was in danger he would have obviously told me,” Violet laughed.

Professor Bin’s class had gone by quickly enough, the entire room attentive and on the edge of their seat now that exams were knocking at their doorsteps. The rest of the day went by in a breeze as well, especially since she could clear her mind from that dreadful consuming dream. She was practically excited by the time the sun dipped behind the castle’s towers, her O.W.Ls would be done soon and summer holidays with her family awaited.

During dinner, Violet immediately noticed that Draco was not present, then scolded herself directly afterwards for even thinking about the little git. In the middle of one of Emma’s infamous rants, Violet had leaned over and whisper into Ginny’s ear about how she had been right about the boy the whole time, but didn’t extend an explanation, still not whiling to admit her relationship with Draco to Ginny just yet.

_________________ 

It was now quite a while since curfew and a relentless flow of Emma’s soft snores filled the dormitory. Violet and Ginny had joined Alyssa on her bed, the three girls street attire signaling that they were still far from sleep. They spoke in hushed voices.

“I hope Goldstein finally asks Emma out,” Alyssa said.

“I don’t,” Ginny stated, looking over towards the sleeping girl, “We’d never hear the end of it.”

“Aw, but it would make her so happy!” Alyssa insisted, “Just look at you and Harry.” This caused a light flush to appear of Ginny’s face. They had announced their romance after the final Gryffindor-Ravenclaw quidditch match—a game, they were all proud to say, that had gone more than successfully.

“I wonder who you’d best be paired up with,” Ginny poked Violet.

“Maybe, Eddie Carmichael? I heard he’s attractive,” Alyssa raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah but he’s also about the graduate,” disagreed Ginny.

“Honestly, I’m fine with being single for now,” Violet’s tone had been a bit keener than she had planed, but the others didn’t seem to notice.

Emits the rhythmic exhales from Emma’s mouth, and the soft tick of the clock above the doorway, fast voices rang out from the common room. The girls fell silent, trying to make out the words that were being spoken until it all artificially stopped. Definitely the doings of a _muffliato_ spell. Walking towards the door, her feet against the hard stone floor, Violet descended to the red and gold common room.

Harry, Ron and Hermione looked up at her sharply. Harry had just handed Ron a rolled up pair of socks, and Hermione’s mouth was parted as though she was about to lecture Harry, an old inked and folded parchment in her hands.

“Violet! I was just about to go look for you,” he spoke so rapidly that Violet was taken aback, “I don’t have time to explain, but I can’t do the Malfoy mission tonight, Dumbledore’s asked me to carry out other things. You’re going to have to do it. Dumbledore won’t be here tonight and I know—I just know—Malfoy’s going to try something. I don’t have time to explain,” he repeated the last phrase again, “Please just do it.” And before anyone could protest, Harry was already passed the portrait hole, Hermione’s mouth still open. The couch creaked as Ron shifted positions, no one spoke. The three of them exchanged glances. A mutual understanding falling between them, suddenly Ron and Hermione stood up and Violet dashed back to the dorms.

Ginny and Alyssa were standing at the doorway when Violet barged in. She pushed pass them in a brisk movement, fingers fumbling with her shoelaces and she tried to slip them on.

“Alyssa,” Violet grabbed her wand, “cover for Ginny and I, we have to do something.”

“Excuse me, what?” Ginny’s hands had flown to Violet’s shoulders, blocking her from running back out.

“I’ll explain on the way. Gin, you complained about me not including you in things, but now I am. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.”

Alyssa offered a shrug, watching as her two friends left Gryffindor Tower and were lost in the depth of the castle.

The only noise was the sound of shoes against a stone floor. The entirety of the school was at rest, all activity confined to the specific common rooms. Ginny didn’t perturb Violet with questions, and she was grateful for that, still trying to work out exactly what she was going to tell her. It wasn’t until they got to the first floor and crossed over through a courtyard that Violet stopped. The only source of light was the black freckled sky above. And, although the warm summer air was still, Violet’s hair swayed back and forth.

Violet explained all she knew of Draco’s conniving: from the cabinet, to the key, to the Polyjuice potion, to her plan with Harry, however, consciously leaving out the part where Violet and Draco had spent late evenings together sharing hugs and talking about their worries. When she had finished she saw a spark flash in Ginny’s eyes—the mark of determination.

“So the plan is: wait for Malfoy, we let him open the Room of Requirements, we stun him, we take the key...and then?” asked Ginny,

“Hide it? Destroy it?” Violet hadn’t discussed this bit with Harry. Though, if they were to hide it they’d need to guarantee Draco couldn’t find it, and based off of her previous experience, hiding it on her person was a absolute no.

Time moved slowly after that, anticipation picking up in both their cores. Soon enough, they arrived face with the stairs that led down to the dungeons. Violet suggested that they don’t descend and wait for Draco in the main corridor, claiming there would be a smaller chance that another Slytherin would catch them. But, the reality was that Violet was just terrified of seeing the beetle shaped mirror again.

Time continued to drain. The snail pace made it feel like an hour or two had gone by, until Ginny trotted down the corridor to glance at the nearest clock, confirming that in fact it had actually been almost three hours. They slid down the wall, sitting next to each other in darkness as the last lamp flickered out. Still Draco did not come. Ginny jerked an elbow into Violet’s ribs seeing her eyelids drift closer and closer together. Where was Draco? Maybe he wasn’t actually going to the Room tonight; maybe he’d already gone and they’d missed him. Maybe.

Just as Violet’s patience was about to run dry, there was a booming ruckus from down the other hall. They both looked up. It sounded almost like someone running into a suit of armor, the chilling metal still echoing off the wall. There was the slightest scrape as Violet and Ginny picked up their wands. They advanced steadily. Violet held her wand tight, ready to chase Draco down. Sure enough, when they turned the corner, there, in the middle of the corridor, laid the motionless scattered pieces of an armor suit. Violet’s head flipped around and around, but there was no one to be seen, no sign that Draco had even been there.

Ginny opened her mouth to add something but found that instead of her voice there came two distinct noises down two opposite corridors.

“I go right, you go left,” Ginny whispered; the both of them disfavoring the idea of splitting up, but knew it was what had to be done. Violet nodded, they held eye contact for a moment longer then turned down their separate paths.

Violet tried to concentrate, but all she could hear was her own heavy breathing. She looked over her shoulder to get one last comforting glance at Ginny, but she wasn’t awarded that luxury, her friend already gone.

She walked for a bit, nothing to see but the occasional painting. The moon’s beams pushed through the glass of the windows, lighting up her trail as she wandered deeper into the castle. Then the passage curved away revealing the corridor, which held the massive doors to the Great Hall at the end. The Gryffindor swallowed sharply, shadows moved back and forth from the end of that very corridor just to the right of the hall. Pressing forward, she could make out several muffled voices that weren’t that far off. _Who on earth are all these people?_ Valiantly, Violet inched forward, hoping to get close enough to either determine who was speaking or catch a glimpse thanks to the shaft of light emanating from outside.

Just then, the unthinkable happened. A large group of adult witches and wizards appeared at the far end, several of them sent random jolts of light that cascaded against the castle walls. Violet quickly forced herself back on the other end of the wall, but not without catching a look at those emerging from the hall, first.

The girl didn’t even believe what she had seen. The band of people she had briefly descried bore the faces of those she’d only ever recognized from wanted posters and the newspapers, except for one that she remembered distinctly from the winter evening at the Burrow. _How?_ Violet almost said aloud, in a total sate of denial. She leaned around the stone to take a second peek.

Bad decision.

The group of witches and wizards still stood at the entrance of the Great Hall. Violet shot back around, not even daring to breathe. Had really she just seen Bellatrix Lestrange, the Carrow Brothers, Fenrir Greyback…the list went on, but most gut wrenching was the sight of no other than Professor Snape at the front of the group.

Immediately Violet’s flight or fight instinct jumped into action, and with scurried steps she sprinted, trying to remain as quiet as possible.

“I smell student,” came a deep animalistic growl.

“No, Greyback, let me,” answered a female voice, surprisingly equally as animalistic, and Violet could only assume it was Bellatrix Lestrange. Her heart leaped into her throat and she rushed a turn, but the girl wasn’t quick enough. The older witch had spotted her.

“ _Stupefy!”_ Bellatrix shouted, the spell missing Violet by mere inches.

“ _Bombarda! Leviato!”_ Violet called one after the other, shattering a near by window then sending the glass fragments directly towards Bellatrix, but the other witch produced a jet of silver water from her wand tip, swiping it across the hall and dissolving the glass into sand. Violet took off running in the opposite direction, throwing an exploding beam towards the wall, causing a part of stone to crumble in her wake—an act that would buy her a few life saving seconds. Frantic, Violet looked around herself. Defense Against the Dark Arts taught Violet the spells to use and when to use them, but it had definitely over looked teaching her how to control her nerves in a situation like this. Digging deep, she tried to bring that chaser courage to her surface, but this wasn’t a friendly quidditch match—this was quite possibly life or death. However, like a beacon of hope, Violet turned onto a familiar corridor, the scattered armor suit still on the floor.

“ _Anapneo!_ ” Bellatrix sent the small barricade as well as Violet flying, “ _Ascendio_ ”

It was the most frightening sight she had ever; Bellatrix had risen herself into the air, a small tornado twisting around her feet and her hair thrashing at its routes as she propelled herself towards a very vulnerable Violet, who was sprawled on the ground. With a snapped decision, the Gryffindor called the armor pieces around her, enclosing her beneath enchanted medal just as Bellatrix sent a firework of blazing bullets towards the girl. Violet still felt the heat surrounding her body, but the armor suit kept her safe from burning and scarring.

“ _Diffindo!”_ Violet screamed, emerging from her hiding, Bellatrix diffused the spell with ease, but was taken by surprise, nonetheless.

“Oh naughty girl. Using legitimately harming spells, I see,” Bellatrix chuckled, “Well, you started it… _Cursio!_ ”

Violet let out a wail as scorching ice-like pain shot through her, forcing her body to crumble over itself. But it only lasted a few heartbeats, and the second the curse ceased Violet pushed her self to her feet. She ran.

Bellatrix muttered a jinx causing Violet to stumble—if not that. But, it wasn’t until the dark witch sent a series of stunning spells; each one missing Violet by two or more feet, that the girl realized Bellatrix was only teasing her. Like a cat hunting a mouse, the older witch planned on toying with her until the point of exhaustion—or quite frankly, until she got bored enough to make a blowing strike. Bellatrix knew that she was much more powerful than the student and was going to find the duel amusing.

With a firm and decisive hit of her wand arm, Violet transformed one of the remaining wall candles into a hissing snake. It lunged towards the evil witch, biting at her ankles. Inhaling proudly, Violet acknowledged that this was the first direct hit she’d been able to make on Bellatrix, and it had proven successful. However, her rejoicing didn’t last long, her attacker became more infuriated and her spells less merciful. Bellatrix was cornering Violet. Desperately the young Gryffindor hurried down the nearest flight of stair in hopes to flee the continuous offense.

“ _Inferno!_ ” Violet threw a ball of fire behind her.

“ _Deletrius_ ,” it disintegrated.

“ _Periculum!_ ”

“ _Ventus._ ”

“ _Baubillious!”_

_“Expelliarmus.”_

Violet’s wand flew out of her hand, it stayed suspended above their heads for just an instance before hitting the floor with a loud _clack_ somewhere far behind Bellatrix. The Death Eater smiled, and every last feeling of hope was sucked out of the Gryffindor’s soul.

The pain struck Violet before Bellatrix’s words had even reached her ears. “ _Cursio.”_

Violet collapsed headfirst to the ground, a searing pain in her abdomen spread to her extremities, ripping at everything in its path. The sensation repeated itself over and over as Violet’s entire body shook uncontrollably. She couldn’t even hear what curses Bellatrix was using anymore, her ears ringing. Coughing, Violet tasted the tang of something salty, and upon looking at her hands she realized she had just thrown up blood.

Another curse struck her, and she struggled to find her breath, cheek plastered against the stone floor. She wanted to scream, she needed a way to let out all this agony, but she just didn’t have enough energy to do so.

Bellatrix said something, which Violet was unable to comprehend, then left the poor student helpless and alone.

The mixture of blood and sweat caused Violet’s open wounds to sting. She panicked as dizziness consumed her, her muscles still twitching. By now her vision was starting to cloud. _No…I’m not going to die._ Violet used everything she had left to try and stand up, but only ended up moving a finger. The stich in her chest ate away at her lungs. A faint silhouette appeared above her, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get her eyes to focus on the person…

Another wave of pain… _can’t move my body_ …

The hot wetness of blood stained her skin.

Panic… _focus on the person…focus-_

She couldn’t even gather her thoughts.

_Person—focus…the person—_


	20. The Boy Who Was Given All the Wrong Choices

“NO—!” Draco yelled, his eyes landing on Violet’s now stilling body. He dropped to his knees, lifting her head to support it, “I-it’s going to be okay…it’ll be okay, just…” He couldn’t think straight. _Wand…Where’s my wand?_ Fumbling in his back pocket he drew his wand, but he’d never been much good at healing spells, “ _Tergeo._ ” Violet’s lost blood siphoned away from her, clearing the wounds. He pressed two shaking fingers against her neck, waiting, just waiting. But the pulse never met his hand. In a storm of anger and despair, he slammed a fist against the ground; his white knuckled tinting with a vivid red.

She was gone. The girl who had changed his life, the girl who had taught him to feel, was gone. He wanted to hug her one last time; he wanted to explain to her everything; he wanted to apologize. He wanted to tell her that he was forced to separate himself from her, that he had still liked her, that pretending to hate her was one of the hardest things he’d ever done, that the Grindylow attack was a warning from the Death Eaters, that if they had continued their relationship not only themselves, but both their family would be at risk of the Dark Lord’s wrath. Draco hiccupped as the first sob left his mouth, his hand wrapping around hers. How could this have happened? He had done everything he was told; he had followed every order.

The corridor was extremely dark, muttering a _Lumos Maxima_ , a ball of cooling blue light lifted into the air. Draco looked back down at Violet. Her glazed eyes stared through him, landing blankly on the ceiling above.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?” came a blood-wrenching screech behind him. He spun around on the floor in time to see the Weasley girl charge at him, wand outstretched.

“I didn’t do anything!” Draco’s arms rose to the air in defense.

“You…You killed her!” she shot a bolt of yellow light towards his face, he diffused it. She sent another and another and another. “Get away from her, you monster!”

“I said it wasn’t me! She was dead when I got here! It was one of the Death Eaters…” He turned back to Violet, gripping her hand once again, and noting, with a stab to his heart, that it had become cold. “I didn’t do anything…” yet that wasn’t completely true, he had done everything. It was his actions that had led them all to this place, all of this stemmed from his decisions. Where had everything gone so wrong?

The She-Weasel inhaled sharply, about to argue, but stopped herself, the sound of her own knees making contact with the floor. No one spoke. It was truly a sight of pitiful anguish, he thought, as he saw them through a beetle shaped standing mirror opposite in the corridor. Draco pulled the girl up against his chest, holding her as the last bit of warmth drained from her body, Violet’s now glassy eyes staring back at the reflection that she could no longer see.


	21. Author's Notes

"His Christian name comes from a constellation - the dragon - and yet his wand core is of unicorn. This was symbolic. There is, after all - and at the risk of re-kindling unhealthy fantasies - some unextinguished good at the heart of Draco." (pottermore.com)

 

These final words of Draco's description on Pottermore heavily influenced this fanfiction, and notably the character of Draco Malfoy that I wanted to portray. Do I think such emotional connection shown in this story could have happened to Draco Malfoy in the original, canon series? No—or at least definitely not during the student years at Hogwarts. However, love is a strong theme throughout the franchise. Dumbledore tells Voldemort that he cannot be the strongest wizard because he does not know love. It is Lily Potter's love for her son that protects him against Dark Magic. In fact, a great majority of Harry's actions are motivated by his love for others. This is something I found very interesting, and that led me to question how Draco Malfoy would react and develop if he had been given the chance to experience love and compassion (these being things that he quite honestly never grew up with and most likely never felt until much later in his life). I also wanted to play on the point most fans and Draco Mafloy enthusiasts bring up when saying Draco was performing evil deeds without a choice (he came from a controlling family, being introduced and raised around superstitious and elitist views, with a legitimate Dark Lord threatening his family); I was careful to title the last chapter "The Boy Who Was Given All the Wrong Choices" as opposed to "The Boy Who Made All the Wrong Choices", however I did not want to name it "The Boy Who Had No Choice", because as much as I support that idea, Draco isn't an angel.

It was very important to me that Violet Ward did not become an 'it girl', or fall into the 'Mary Sue' trope. I intentionally made sure that Violet never made it into the "Golden Trio" (something she admits to wanting on several occasions), really only getting close to Harry, and solely getting friendly with Ron and Hermione thanks to mutual friends (Ginny and Harry). My reasoning was that this story is the telling through her eyes on the events of The Half Blood Prince, and in this world (and our own) not everyone is Harry Potter—not everyone is the hero. This is something that the character struggles with; her intentions are good in the sense she wants to help and solve a problem, but she easily forgets that others are there to help her and that she can't do it alone.

There are heavy parallels between Violet and Draco, than what first meets the eye. Anger is a prominent emotion in both characters; the both of them have impulsive moments and tenancies. This being said, I found it interesting to compare how this type of tempestuous personality develops in a person depending on their environment. Violet has a loving and supportive family, who stays in contact with her while she's at boarding school and invites her home for Holidays. She is surrounded by a kind-hearted group of friends (Ginny, Alyssa, Emma, and to some extent eventually Harry, Nymphadil, Ron, Hermione, and the rest of the Weasley family) each of them offering comfort and friendship in their own unique ways. While on the other hand, Draco was never nourished in such a manner and lacked a strong supportive system, and thus this led him to become a bully. It is only until he catches feelings for Violet that he begins to learn how to aim his emotions. The title on the story, In Finding My Honor, is up to many interpretations. It works as though "This happened in finding my honor" or "In finding my honor this happened", thus enclosing the events of the story. You could say Violet's search for her honor circles around helping Harry and contributing as a hero. For Draco it's more complicated. It starts off with him trying to prove his honor to his father and to Voldemort by becoming a Death Eater, but later in the story switches to try to prove himself to Violet.

Additionally it's nice to note the importance of name calling throughout the story. Violet referred to people by either their full name or last name until she got close to them. This is seen through the mixture of "Harry" and "Potter" at the beginning and then the transition to solely "Harry" at the end. This is especially present in the Violet-Draco relationship, with a division in the book between the first and second term where Violet would only refer to him as Malfoy and then transitioned to using Draco (even after she is led to believe the boy never actually liked her, she continues to use Draco—showing the effect the relationship had on her).

I knew since the third chapter that I wanted Violet to die at the end of the story. It's Violet's death that makes Draco stop and really reconsider every single one of his actions. And yes—to all of those wondering—Violet dies still believing everything she had with Draco was fake. Though, it may seem cruel to her, Draco, and especially Ginny, that was the point of it. I almost felt as though I couldn't reward Draco with the survival of Violet, and that her death was necessary for him to finally understand the severity of the path he had gone down. This is the start of the wizarding war, after all, and wars aren't fair. Her death shows just how cruel and unforgiving ideologies like that of Voldemort can come to be. 

Though, almost contradictory to what I just stated, Draco does redeem himself to an extent. In an attempt to save Violet's life he sacrifices his appearance in her eyes, letting her believe that he is nothing more than the sly manipulative boy in all the rumors. This act is something that pained him deeply, but thus shows his humility. 

Finally, on a perhaps less important note (but equally as intriguing), is the character of Nymphadil Lèving. Her role isn't extremely important, and actually only existed after the third round of editing, but she is one of my favorite creations yet. The reader does not see much of her in this story, but personally on my own I've come up with an entire backstory and even plotted a future for her, she truly is a very peculiar and interesting young girl, so perhaps later on I'll write another fanfiction around her. 

 

Thank you for giving your time to read my work.


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